Colour Me Curious
by RedStaining
Summary: The girls are in hiding, yet they try their best to save the day. It doesn't always go as well as it should. Reds, Greens, Blues. Slow-burn, violence, bullying, abusive relationships. Rated M for adult contents.
1. Chapter 1

**_Chapter 1. Driving you to madness_**

 _Part 1_

Brick's P.O.V 

Ever since we were born, my brothers and I have hated the Powerpuff girls. It's what we were made for, and as I'm standing in front of my red bowed counterpart, I feel nothing but endless hate for her ridiculous pink eyes and the lust to push her through the gravel, giving her the beating of her lifetime. These urges rush through me every time we face. The thought of her is enough to rill me up, the sight of her is making the adrenaline pump. Bloodthirst has never been this intense or welcome before.

«Causing ruckus again,» she comments, narrowing her eyes to a glare. One I'm happy to return ten folded. Licking my bottom lip, I twist the corner of my mouth upward. She hates it, and she knows I know she does. Needless to say, I'm loving it.

«Always,» I nonchalant shrug my shoulders, palms turned to the roof. The bags hanging between my thumb and index rustles with the movement. My left brow arch upwards, provoking another vein to pop up on her forehead. A rough scoff leaves my nose. The redhead groans.

«Put the money and the pickles on the floor and leave, or we're going to have -»

«To kick your asses!» her brute sister finished, fists cracking the knuckles up in a threatening manner. Didn't do much to scare me, though. Before I can ignore her and go back to talking to the leader girl, my moron of a brother finds it in him to spring to life.

«Yeah? Think you can, little girl?» my raven haired sibling snickers at her with an uneasy twitch riding through his skin. He is excited and it requires everything he has not to tackle her before saying it. He has too much energy in him. Always ready for a fight.

«Buttercup!» the pinkette scolds, turning her attention away from me. The girl makes a mute excuse, and before I know it, they're lost in argue and talk. Butch this, Buttercup that.

«He always starts it!» She defend herself, hand pointing at her most hated enemy. It opened a way for his left hand to butt in on the conversation. The heated words quickly becomes shrieking and like always, it's the hero whom jumps first. She darts through the air and punches the prepared ruff in his stomach, both colliding through the wall and out of sight in full brawl. The leader girl hovers past him, yelling after her firecracker of a sister.

Done with being ignored – how dared she? - I drop the sack of pickles in my left hand and watch her turn with a jump and stare at the covered floor. Pickles and juice everywhere. The smell is horrible and itch in my nose. Those pink eyes flare up with a fire of anger.

«Brick!» She looses herself and bolts at me. Just like her, I know how to push her buttons broken. My right hand opens and the paper scatters all around the bank, just in time to catch the incoming fist. I do, however, not see the foot in time, and a sharp pain crackles from my abdomen and we break the window on our way out.

My blond brother glances from me to his counterpart, she seems equally as nervous, before we lock eyes. _Beat her_ , I tell him before he's lost to me. We tumble and roll around, ending a couple blocks down, taken two walls and a dumpster with us in the chaos. Her ever so perfect, pink bow is crumbed, probably from when I had grabbed a hold of it and tried to ram her head through the asphalt.

Her lip is busted, I notice as she roll to a standing position, hands hovering in the air in defence. The sound of cars honking, people talking and her heavy breathing fills my ears, the other pair of superhuman's causing a huge blast in the distance. Hot blood is already pumping through my veins, muscles twitching in anticipation and awareness. The smell of her sweat, garbage and sweet shampoo invades my nostrils and it's sickening. It makes me angry. Hell, the mere sight of her is enough to invoke my wrath.

I take the initiative, kicking from the ground and connect my fist with her chin. It makes a sickening crack as the redhead is sent tumbling into the building across the street. It bends over and people scream, cry, scramble, but none of them anticipates me.

«Stand in the way,» I command, and they follow my orders without questions. I can make people do whatever I want, and the hero comes to rescue. The girl grabs the building, another bloody streak down her chin, dripping. Her arms shake under the heavy weight.

«Didn't think it'd be over so soon. Come on, you can do better,» I grunt the last word as I kick her out of the way, dashing after. The screams are drowned out as the building comes down with a crushing weight.

She suddenly picks herself up, and her pedal shakes my brain with a powerful kick to the chin. It spins my world, my body, my mind around like a record, and I feel bricks give away under the force, metal bend and asphalt crack as my shoulder dislocates, two fingers break in awkward angles, my scull crack, and clavicle ruptures. Crimson blood is spit on the ground. An annoying peeping lingers inside my ears, and I stumble off my knees. They were torn and ripped, skin muddy and a crust of gravel and liquid sticking to it.

The earth shakes as she places the building down and out of harms way, ordering the civilians off the battlefield. She isn't taking me seriously unless there's a life and death situation for the blasted residents. Always paying them more mind than me. Even when I'm busy beating the shit out of her, the puff thinks of them. Why wouldn't she take me serious?

I growl, gaining her attention. A faint hint of panic shines in her pink irises, but it's not for me. It's not for her life. She's scared what kind of casualties I might make, and she's right about that.

«Pick up the broken glass!» I yell. Our eyes lock. Sobbing ugly and crying like animals, they follow.

«No!» she calls out to the rest whom wasn't fast enough to get out of the way. They're merely a handful, but that'll do. «Brick, stop it,» she begs. Oh, the pleading is music to my ears, twisting the corner of my lips upwards.

«You, kill yourself,» I order as her heart wrenching scream fills my ear, blood splattering on the closest wall. The gasping and spasms passes as she stands over the corpse, tears falling from her cheeks. Somehow, it isn't as pleasing as I'd hoped. Bored with the game, I go back to my violent assault.

My female counterpart doesn't resist. She moves with my blows – thrown left, right, up, down – eyes closed and a twisted grimace on her face. I know the puff is blaming herself and seeing this as punishment for failing, but that only angers me. The girl can't escape my wrath that easily. She's to hurt more, cry more, die more, knowing I'm the one causing it.

«Look at me,» I command, grabbing a hold of her straight, silky hair. Yanking hard in it, I lift her off the ground and stares down in her beaten face. In contrast to the ones I can order around as I like, she's free of my hold. I can't make her do anything, I can't order her, and it's making me hate her even more.

«Look at me!»

«No!» She grabs at my wrist, trying to force herself out of the strong grip. I'm not letting go, even with two aching, broken fingers. She's not getting away from this. The blasted puff and her fucking resistance to my powers. She's nothing special. She's no one!

«If you're not looking at me, I'll make someone else kill themselves. Then another one. And another one, until you're looking at me. How many has to die for your selfish request? Huh?!» I tease her. Always has to be the hero, save everyone. Her puffed eyes slowly open and those pink orbs that always hunt me whenever I close my eyes stare back at me. They're fuelled with hate, anger and rage. Soft tears stream down her cheek. It brings me no pleasure. If only I could make her do it instead of asking. Fuck!

I throw her on the ground.

«You're a coward, Brick.» Her soft voice barely reaches my superhuman senses.

«What did you say?» I hiss, stepping closer to the mess she has become.

«Always hiding behind innocent bystanders, what? You're not man enough to take me on yourself? You're scared of a little girl?» The redhead tries her best to stand up, but I kick her down by the shoulder. She stumbles back. I mount her stomach, keeping her wormy form in place.

«What's that? Can't hear you over the sound of broken bones.» Her arm makes a sickening sound as I break it. The girl screams in pain. It draws out before ending in loud sobs. Now this was making me feel better. Her heartbeat slows down, and before I can make up my mind what to do next, she spits me in the face.

Surprised at the sudden wetness, I don't see the incoming right hook. It connects with my previous injury, and the world goes completely black. My conscience is slipping, but I feel another thud to my back and stomach, some girly screaming for her sister, as I chuckle softly. That's more like it.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Chapter 1. Driving you to madness_**

 _Part 2._

Buttercup's P.O.V

I give the redheaded bastard another kick to the back as I go to pick up my sister. She's looking worse by the second. Her beautiful, orange hair is smudged with crimson gore and dirt, half her face is swollen shut and the skin is broken horribly. I'm probably not an attractive panorama myself, but I can tell you I'm not feeling half as shitty as she appears.

«I lost one,» she blames herself, kicking the laughing bag of Jojo in the stomach before he goes completely shut. I'd love to stay there and keep giving him the cowardly beating he deserves, but his brute brother was just around the corner and would soon get here.

«We have to go, Bloss.» She didn't respond to me, her gaze fixated on the bloody body and I grit my teeth. Usually, I wouldn't hesitate to leave her to her self and the destructive path she's about to head down, but now is not the time.

«Butch is just around the corner, and we need to get out of here. Bubbles is missing, but I'm pretty sure she can handle the fucking coward, blue boy.»

«Language.» I chuckle. The sound snapped her out of the trance, and she then glances at me. _Shit_ , I think. Even if I didn't feel that bad, I could tell by my reflection in her irises I looked like a victim of war myself. My jaw hurts like a bitch, and even breathing makes sharp pinches of pain flash trough the sensitive nerves. It's hanging loosely, cheek torn and neck stained in a mixture of mine and my enemy's blood. The bone is practically shattered under the brute force it had collided with.

«Buttercup, your jaw.»

«Yeah, I can feel it,» the words are slurred, but she understands. A seriousness falls over the both of us. «We have to go,» I urge her. Time is up. She knows it. I know it. Bubbles knows it. We can feel it in our bodies, _on_ our bodies. Like an internal clock.

Staggering to her feet, I grab a hold of her shaking shoulder. Blossom is by no means heavy, but supporting her with a dislocated shoulder isn't exactly at the top of my to-do list for the weekend. A low whimper escapes her brave lips. It's barely a whisper, but I can hear it.

Fueled with rage, I take to action like I'm known to. Twisting on my heel, i dig my foot in her counterparts guts, a crack leaving a satisfied smile on my lips. He's going to feel that one tomorrow. Usually, Blossom prevents me from going overboard or taking things too far, but this time she says nothing. As if she feels my actions just. Who knew, maybe she wanted to do it herself too.

Taking to the sky, we barely manage to scramble a couple blocks by, before earth comes crashing down. Or up? It was hard to tell when I'm suddenly face planted in the concrete, my sister screaming something in the distance as we're separated. Tumbling, twisting and turning, I feel a muscular body pushing against my back. Even if I went blind, deaf and mute, I would know that physic anywhere. Know the vibration of the tone.

«Going so soon?» the dark voice whisper in my ear, twisting my arm harder around. I hiss in pain, and it seems to do the trick, because it's held there. No way am I getting room to breathe. The breath tickles my ear, and the softness of the lips lingers on my skin.

«We were just getting started,» he laugh roughly, dislocating the one good shoulder I had left. The sensation of muscles being torn lingers painfully, and I feel so trapped, it angers me. Everything about him angers me. The way he things himself superior, his perverted way of violating my body no one else can, the slimy way he creeps into my mind, the nasty voice sprouting nonsense.

«Get off,» I growl, pushing against him. That was my first mistake, a hint of weakness in my voice had slipped through, the pain getting excruciating and the slight tremble through my body is evoking horrendous thoughts within him. Something pokes my back rear. That nasty, little!

«No, I like it here,» a wet tongue finds it's way toward my ear lobe, rubbing on the sensitive spot there.

«Get off me!» Fuck the located shoulders. Fuck the broken jaw. Fuck this cunt and his agonizing behavior. Blossom whimpers something in the distance, and I can tell we're almost out of time. Squirming around, the grinding only gets worse, he releases my hand fast to tie it together with my other above my head. I don't like where this is going. The mere movements hurt and the posture is enough to bring tears to my eyes. I swallow them back.

«Scream for me, Buttercup. Like you used to when I broke you in the past.» A hand, strong and determent, fondles at my right side, and a second passes before I understand what he's going on about. The heated skin touches the bare of my sides, and that's when I lose it.

«Don't you dare touch me,» I yell, it came out in an octave higher than anticipated, panic now knocking at my sanity. Second mistake. _Not there. He couldn't. He can't. No one can!_ «Fuck off!» I screech as I feel the curious phalanges find their way around.

Butch grunts before the weight is gone. I see his body roll around before coming to a still a few feet away. Breathing heavily - when had I started hyperventilating? - I glance over my shoulder, expecting the worst. To my pleasant surprise, I see a streak of blonde hair, a fainted Blossom in her hands.

«Bubbles,» I breathe heavily.

«Can you stand?» her gentle voice asks, and I nod my head. It felt like dragging my hands through glass as I support myself to a vertical position. I didn't look back as we took off, disappearing into the streets, hiding away in the shadows of the fallen sun.

I barge through the torn door, holding it open for my sisters. Blossom is unconscious, and I can tell my the heavy breathing that the blonde isn't far behind. By the pounding in my ears, I'm guessing it's about time for a bath.

The door makes a hollow sound as it shuts, we do our best to make our way to the basement. A man in a white coat glances up from the table at our arrival. His face is worn and dirty, as if he hadn't slept or showered in weeks. Red veins pops in the white of his eye, a pipe hanging loosely from his pondering lips.

«Girls,» his voice sounds harsh. As if he had not spoken in weeks, yet screamed it away. Never the less was it filled with worry. «What happened?» He always asks, and we always answer. It's the same thing every time.

«The boys,» Bubbles offers him a smile, seeing she was the only one capable of doing so. An already lined wrinkle pops forward as he mutters something under his breath, before clicking a small controller in his hand. A row of three tubes light up, a transparent glass holding it together.

«I will leave you to it,» he mutters. «Need to grab something to eat, anyway.» He's out before they can answer. The old man was troubled, and there was nothing they could do to ease his pain.

They help each other with undressing the leader and placing her in the tube before filling it with a blank liquid, bubbles of air moving to the top. Her hair waves beautifully around her, making her appear as an enchanted being. Had it not been for the ugly scars covering her skin.

«They're becoming stronger,» my blonde sister looks up from me, a foot inside the bath. It was something we had talked about a couple of months back, but it was becoming clearer every time we faced. They were going to bypass, and that soon.

«Yeah,» I grunt displeased. I hated it when I can't do anything about the problem. The boys needed to be stopped, needed to be put down, but we didn't have the powers.

«See you tomorrow,» Bubbles does her best to sound cheery, but I don't answer her. I'm angry. Not at my sister, who knows what would have happened if she had not shown up in time. I can still feel his disgusting hands. It wasn't like it was anything new. At times when we were deep in battle, it kindled something dark inside me, something raw and lusting, and I had felt the attraction toward the strong Rowdyruff several times. He had often pushed his erection up against my private parts, dressed of course, and at times, I was so temped to give in, but then he would go ahead and break something. An arm, a leg, a rib bone.

The green ruff took pleasure in others pain like a real sadist, and he would often respond to my mistreating of him. Could one be both sadist and masochist? Butch wasn't normal, so probably. Fuck him. It had been rougher the last couple of weeks, and I couldn't keep up anymore.

Today was the first day he had ever touched me with the intent of something else than violent fighting. It sickens me. He sickens me.

As the cool feeling traps me in the light liquid, i take a deep sip of it as I let it induse me in a dreamless sleep. I need to push the shaking away. I need to forget. Even if my body lusts for him, I won't let Butch get me.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter 1. Driving you to madness**_

 _Part 3._

Boomer's P.O.V

I laugh rough. A hand shoots out, trying to grab a hold of me. Considering I'm unharmed and my brother is literally totally smashed, it's no big deal for me to dodge it. Butch growls loudly and ready himself to bounce me, but his vision is ruined, and I don't even have to move as he misses by far. Another loud laugh.

«Shut up, Boomer,» Brick warns, a hiss escaping his lips. They both looked like hell.

«I'm going to fucking kill you,» the green ruff threatens.

Shrugging my shoulder, I glance at him sideways. «Gotta catch me first, moron.» Another pounce, this one closer than the last one. Maybe he was about to regain his senses. From what I could tell, the blow to the back of his head had disrupted his senses and balance. There was nothing wrong with his strength, which indicated he would probably make good due of his threat if he got a hold of me.

«Stand still, motherfucker,» Butch give me one of his devilish grins, cracking his knuckles. Sweat is pouring down his forehead, and he's exhausted just standing.

«At least I didn't loose,»

«I had that green bitch between my fingers, ready to tear her apart, had it not been for that blue harpy butting in. She was your responsibility, Boomer!»

«Hey, she fled from me in quite the weak state. I can't help it if you can't deal with a couple of girls.» It wasn't a lie, just a half truth. Wasn't like I was going to tell them what had happened.

«What was that?» My brother growls, taking a steady step toward me, hands twitching with anger.

«Freeze,» Brick makes a gun motion with his hand, is powers preventing the both of us from moving. By the popped vein on his temple, I can tell he's having the headache of his life. Great. Hell hath no fury like Brick.

Knowing the brute force of my brother, it wouldn't be longe before he used his strength to break out of the spell, so I need to be one step ahead. A portal opens beneath my feet, and i slip through space, landing on the broken street a couple feet away. The command is broken. Butch is right behind me, and I barely glance at him before scoffing.

The sound of his scream ricochets between the building, his body tumbling through a portal, and appears twice the length away from me. The astral power, dark like space, is gone before he can turn.

«You're just as much of a cheater as that blasted blonde,» he curses wildly, stomping the ground like a four year old. I chuckle.

«Remembering right, you're the one who lost the puff first, Butch,» Brick mutter, gaining our attention. Well, that took me by surprise. Glancing curious at my other brother, I see the hue of rage on his cheek. Uh-oh.

«She surprise jumped me just as I was about to finish off Red, so this is all your fault, really.»

«The hell, Brick!»

«Okeey,» I step in between them with a stiff smile. Didn't need to fight amongst ourselves. «How about calling it a day and order some pizza? My treat.»

«What do you mean your treat? Everything is paid from Mojo's pocket.» I don't have a good answer to that, so I shrug my shoulders instead with a not so sorry expression to my redheaded brother. He sighs, glaring eyes staring at his palm. It didn't seem to be damaged, and I'm debating whether to ask or leave it. My older brother isn't big on sharing, never had been, and I wasn't going to push the matter.

«I could go for some food about now,» Butch agrees, to my relief. Taking to the sky, we leave the battleground in ruins, a siren wailing in the distance, a few sobs reaching my ear and some shocked stares. Mortals weren't meant to be in the path of destruction, and their minds are far too fragile for the harsh environment of war. Yet there was little they could do other than flee for their petite lives. The slow ones were necessary casualties, according to Brick.

The only sign of my brothers being hurt, were their brutal jerks of limbs to break them back in position. The wounds would be healed over the night, and there wont be a scratch left by tomorrow to imply there had ever been any damage. Perks of being a superhuman.

A small bell signals our arrival at the hut, eyes turning our way. The ones in queue quickly make way for a barging Butch, the man talking to the older woman behind the counter. She's already complaining about the unnecessary treatment of her costumers, and that she already had their pizza ready for the taking.

Out of all the people in Townsville, no one has as much guts as the old lady. She is quick to call us out on our bullshit and unfairness, and she's keeping a straight nose even when threatened with death. I like her. In more than one occasion has she denied Butch and made him clean up the mess he's made. We've been costumers for years, and nobody makes fast food like this little corner. It's become another type of home to us.

«What have I told you about coming in here and acting like you own the place, young Jojo?» she barks at him, making the mood of the green man rise quite the amazing amount. He's smiling from ear to her as she hand over the hot box with a stern look. It was as if she had an intern alarm as to when we were coming over to eat.

«The other one is in the oven and ready in a couple minutes.»

«Thanks, gran,» Brick says. He glances sideways at me. Yeah, I remembered that this was on me, he didn't have to be so stern about it. Shaking my head, I whip out my wallet and picks out enough to cover the bill and tips. This was the only place we ever paid for anything.

Butch takes the one furthest from the door, and Brick sits beside me. My brother always needed the outer seat, giving him the illusion of control. The window is rather clean for such a small place, and it was one of the reasons I love it. It's small, neat and reminds me of a certain counterpart.

The world outside is busy, people whom didn't mind the ruckus or weren't affected by it, some maybe, and nothing seems to have changed. A softness lingers inside my palm, and i place it on my chin. The smell still lingers, and I feel a twitch in my pants. God damn, this was enough to jerk off to, but I'm not that desperate. Not yet, at least.

I can still picture her soft skin and willful expression, the tenderness of her skin and taste the softness of her lips. Two baby blue eyes staring at me hazy and hot breath tickling my skin. What I wouldn't do to go back to the short moment.

Shifting my position, I stare at the old waitress as she places the second pizza down. Butch was already half way through his, and I pick a corner, softly nibbling on it. I felt endless hunger, and the food was magical, but not what I wanted. No, the one I want is a forbidden fruit, ready to be picked.

God I can't wait to see her again. It's getting hard in more than one way, as I try to hide my sly smile. When would the next time be? Surely not as long as the previous meetings were. I'm not sure I can keep myself from wrecking the city just to see her.

«Why are you smiling like that, dude? It's fucking creepy,» Butch comments, watching me grossed out. Couldn't be helped. He would probably do the same in my position if he knew. But he can't, this is my little secret.

«Just how Bubbles bested you.»

«Shut the fuck up, Boomer,» Brick orders, a snarl at the corner of his lips. He seems angrier than usual today. My lips clap shut, preventing me from eating more. I place the piece down. At least they didn't ask anymore, and it wasn't like I couldn't go without food.

 _Butch and Buttercup is long gone, a building already crashing down in the distance. Blossom looses herself and jumps my other brother, taking him with her throughout the bank window. I see the look my brother is giving me before he's gone, and I crack my neck as I turn to my counterpart. She's reluctant, hanging low with her head, staring up at me with those beautiful puppy eyes. I've always had a soft spot for her, and I probably always will._

 _«Do we have to fight?» her voice is barely audible, and I can hear the hope, the plea behind it. Maybe she was feeling the same as me? The thought is thrilling._

 _«I don't want anymore people to die because of us,» Bubbles whispers and strokes her left arm, as if a chill rides her skin. God she was cute._

 _«No, but you're gonna have to compensate for it,» I grin evilly. «I'll spare everyone on this side of my fighting area if you suck me off.» A faint blush glows on her cheeks, and I can already feeling the throbbing in my pants. This girl didn't know what she was doing to me, always had done._

 _«I-» she interrupts herself. White teeth bite her underlip. Another throb, this one more painful than the first. She was considering it. Bubbles really was thinking about giving me a – ah, man. Her face is a dark shade of red, as she nods her head once and waves for me to follow._

 _It could have been a trick and I would have played straight into her hand with pleasure. She lead me down a couple blocks and turned to me, landing on the asphalt._

 _«If I do this, you must promise not to hurt anyone, and let me leave afterwards.» There is a strength to her voice I've seen glimpses of, and it doesn't exactly make her less hot, but quite on the contrary. Bubbles was perfection, where she stands with her pulp lips, long eyelashes and blond, luxurious hair. I bet it's softer than it appears._

 _«Yeah, sure,» I halfheartedly say, already deep in daydream of the wonderful heaven she's promised me._

 _«I mean it, Boomer, no one can get hurt and I get to leave afterwards,» she takes a step forward, forces me to stare her in the eyes. I'm dry in the throat, before I make a serious promise, one I intend to keep. She has me by the balls, but fuck it. I don't really give two fucks as long as I can have her._

 _The spit she swallows makes her throat move, and I stare at the silky veins. Unconsciously, I reach a hand out and grabs the back of her neck. She doesn't move. I could break her neck from the position, but she doesn't even flinch. She doesn't look scared, but rather flustered at the thought._

 _«You have yourself a deal,» I softly whisper while my thumb caress her cheek._

I can't wait to see her next time. My tongue licks my dry lips as I shift to hide my hard on. _You have yourself a deal, sweet Bubbles._


	4. Chapter 4

_**Chapter 1. Driving you to madness**_

 _Part 4._

Blossom's P.O.V

I glance at the empty pallet in front of me, to the waiting brunette and back. This wasn't good. It had been over forty minutes, and I haven't mustered even one streak of paint on the whiteness in front of me. The brown eyes haven't stopped smiling, and I bite the bottom of my lip. I hate it when it turns out like this.

It wasn't like I could complain, because I had been on board with the idea several months back when it was introduced to us. Normally, I would love to take brainy subjects instead of these artsy ones, but that would be too obvious. The ruff's were always searching for us, and we would surely be killed if we were exposed. But one can't go through life without attending something, so we swapped what to take. I do art and music for Bubbles, she does sports for Buttercup, and my green sister is stuck with AP math.

Every home project I got, I handed over to Bubbles, and every homework Buttercup was given, was throw at me. The hunger for knowledge was always happy to get something to learn, and I was already through three of the five books for the classes. Buttercup didn't have to do homework for quite some time, and only had to hand it in in time.

Thus I am stuck with this. Robin is a very nice and great friend of all three of us, but there is no way I can tell her the truth; that I can't paint, sing or draw for shit. I scratch the dark wig on my head, careful not to smudge the foundation. It is used to hide the soft map of freckles on the bridge of my nose. The contact lenses are brown. No one can tell I'm a Powerpuff girl.

«How is it going, Sky?» my friend asks, straightening her back. Can't blame her for being excited. The pieces Bubbles had given me to hand in were above good, and everyone looked forward to seeing 'my' next masterpiece. I can only lie at this point.

«I'm so sorry. Being watched makes me nervous, and I can't seem to focuse enough to make something good.»

«That's okey. I can relate,» Robin answers as she rise from the chair and comes around to stare at it. I blush slightly. «Oh, that isn't exactly good,» the brunette mutters at the blank portrait.

«No. I'll bring the finished results tomorrow, I promise. I'm sorry.»

«Yeah, no problem.» The bell breaks the awkward silence I feel, and I quickly pack away Bubble's things. My new friend talk away while I nod and encourages her to keep going. There wasn't much I could tell about myself without revealing too much, and it was nice to have a friend. Just as we walk around a corner, I crash straight in to someone. I curse myself as I trip forward. If there weren't hundreds of people around, I would just hover and save the books in my hands, but because I'm forced into hiding, I let myself hit the floor.

The fall isn't very ugly, but my books scatter about. Fire burns my cheek as I quickly gather my things together, listening to Robin while she barks at whomever was in the way. Taking a quick glance over my shoulder I freeze as a pair of crimson eyes stares down at me. His bloody hair is tied in a low tail at the back of hist neck under the red cap.

In all the months I've been going to this school, we haven't faced before. It had been so nice to keep the supernatural life out of my education, and I feel the sweat on my back freeze in horror. What if he recognizes me? It will all be over. All this would have been for nothing. I will get us killed.

He glances at my puffed friend, then back at me. I can't move a muscle, I'm that terrified. The male scoffs before bending over while picking up my book, grabbing my hand and pulls me to my feet. He's a head taller, and I'm look away from the intense stare. Those sharp irises feel like they can see straight into my soul, see the truth. His hand is warm, making me blush further. As if it couldn't get worse.

Then the weirdest thing happens. A polite smile spreads across his mouth as he hands me the book.

«Sorry,» the word is soft, and I feel my heart pound hard. Was it out of fear? Adrenaline? Something might be wrong with me. It's hard to breathe, and I snap after my breath before accepting the peace offering. He winks at me before continuing on his way, the friends around him already laughing and commenting.

«Wow,» Robin says.

«Yeah,» I pull the books closer to my chest, unable to ease my heart. Who knew he could smile like that? The only thing I have ever seen from him was mischievous and sinister smiles. If he behaved like that, I might actually like – nope. Hold that thought. Never going to happen. I feel my face heat more and I stare at the floor. The smile is crucified to the inside of my brain.

«Well, then,» Robin giggles beside me, and I nudge her with my shoulder, but a faint smile spread across my lips. I'm acting silly, I know. It's not how things are suppose to be. This isn't his true self, he's an evil bastard that takes great pleasure in smacking me around and inflict pain on others, yet I can't help feeling a small hope blooming for Brick. Maybe we could be friends. It's wishful thinking, but I can't help it.

«Sky,» someone calls behind me, and I turn. Buttercup waves, accompanied by Mitch Mitchelson. He's in the same advanced classes as her, and quite the dork in a cute boy-next-door way. Her dark hair is tied up in a high pony tail at the back of her neck, the extensions hidden quite well. Heavy, dark makeup frames her blue contacts. Nothing like the brutish ruff's would recognize my sister in, because she herself hates it. Perfect for hiding. It was quite good, and it took Bubbles half an hour to apply it each day. I rise my hand back.

«Have you seen Hope?» she asks as they jog up to us. It is what we call Bubbles in school.

«No,» I'm still flustered over the previous event.

«What's wrong with you?» my sister asks. I want to tell her nothing, to calm her down and not worry, to forget what had happened and go back to hating the ruffs and being enemies, but Robin is faster than me.

«She was tripped by Brick,» the brunette giggles with wiggling eyebrows.

«Brick Jojo?» Buttercup has a dangerous tone to her voice, an alarming look flashing in her eyes.

«Nothing happened,» I stare her down. Making sure she understood we weren't noticed.

«Other than he picked up your book, helped you up and said sorry,» Robin squeal in delight.

«Bullshit,» Mitch finally speak with an arched brow. «There's no way a Jojo would apologize for anything, less help anyone.»

«Maybe he just likes Sky,» the brunette nudges me further. She has no idea. I shake my head with a sigh. Luckily, we're moving through the corridor and toward the cafeteria.

«God forbid no,» Buttercup snarks, and I have to agree. The thought is alarming and down right creepy.

«Why not? She's pretty, quite the artist and a sweet sixteen. I don't see what you have against the Jojo's. They're the most handsome, hottest guys in school, and barely a year older,» Robin visibly drools over the thought of the ruffs. Good she didn't know their bad sides.

«They're fuckheads,» Buttercup grunts.

«Lilly!» I turn to my sister. «Language.»

«I have to agree with the flower on this one,» the guy defends her. «They're a special kind of jerks.»

«Hot, hot jerk-fuckheads,» Robin grins like a fool. The heat of his hand still linger on mine, and I can't help replaying the scene of him helping me up. Maybe in another universe where the boys weren't complete morons, we could be friends. Maybe even more. I blush at the thought, and shakes it out of my head. Dangerous territory.

I see Bubbles in front of us. She uses a washable color every morning, striping her hair in purple and pink, green eyes with pink lip gloss and eye shadow in blue. It's half the usual length, being tied up in the back, and makes it appear thicker. I'm about to call her over when I see the girl sneaking up from behind. _Shit, not again_ , I think.

The girl starts laughing as she throws the bucket of dirty water at my sister. Clenching my jaw, I pull at the girl's left leg with my telekinesis, making it appear as if she's loosing her footing. The joy quickly turns to horror as she realizes the slip up and drenches her giggling friend instead. A screech fills the corridor as they fight among themselves over the outcome.

Bubbles turns toward them with a puzzled expression before glancing around. That's when she spots us, and I wink at her. The animated personality skips toward us with a huge smile.


	5. Chapter 5

**_Chapter 1. Driving you to madness_**

 _Part 5._

Butch's P.O.V

«I'm hungry,» she whispers in my ear, rubbing the outside of my pants. Pulling the blonde closer, I sheepishly smile at her as my right hand finds her firm behind. I sneak it closer to jackpot as I push her closer up on the wall, steady myself between her thighs.

«What a coincidence. So am I,» I nibble at her jawline, taking a sensual bite of her neck. The girl I can't even remember the name of moans in my ear. Hearing her in pleasure is only making me half hard, as I turn her head with my free hand. The thumb circles the outline of her sensitive spot. The tights in a purple and pink pattern are already wet.

«Ow,» she fakes hurt as I bite harder on her shoulder, but the pain she feel is real. It's enough to harden me more. She gasps at the nudging. The gleam eyed, blond dyed girl was easy enough to hook, so I'm barely gentle. If I went with my full power, she would be dead, and I've learned to go easy on mortals. Though, it's only half satisfying. There was only one capable of taking all of me.

«Hey, not so hard,» she whines as my grip becomes like iron and I push her head against the wall. With a groan, I release my hold, and she's back to playful. Just like any other girl. Another wave of blood fills my dick, but it's not at it's hardest. We grind in union and I bite at her lip, making her gasp. I'm quick inside with my tongue. The fake blonde quickly succumbs to my dominance, and I find it barely half pleasing. These high school girls were too easy.

Annoyed with my demanding penis, I flip her over and push my hard flesh against her bouncing rear. The girl moans with pleasure, and I hold her hand over her head. She calls my name breathless.

 _«Get off,» she growls, pushing against me. God her butt feels good against my boner._

«No,» I mutter into her ear. «I like it here.»

 _«Get off me!»_ _The struggle is making me bind her wrists over her head with my left hand. A quiver of horror rides her body, and I grind against the backside._ God it was the best. The quality is angelic, and boy will I do everything in my power to break it.

«Then keep going,» the unknown voice is faint, but I hate it. _Shut the fuck up_ , I think. This moment is what I've been waiting for the last couple of months, maybe even years. The attraction the puff emits is physical, it's raw, it's intoxicating. Everything about the wild girl is making my blood boil, the adrenaline pump and the lust famish my very core. I need to have her, she belongs to me, and she's mine to break!

«Scream for me, Buttercup,» I say out of breath into her ear.

«What the fuck?» the blonde breaks into my mind with her annoying voice, and I open my eyes. Her curves are all wrong, somehow. The hair tickles my nose with expensive, disgusting perfume. «The fuck did you call me,» she glances over her shoulder. Her eyes are green. Ah, so that's why I picked her. They aren't even the right shade. Too dark. Not like the lime, sharp and resisting eyes I long for.

A month had passed since I've seen Buttercup, and my body was getting restless with the lack of a punching bag. Besides, it was over before I was done. Lately no girl would make due, and I found their lack of sex boring. That sexy puff broke my dick. Damn that girl.

I sigh as I get off her. It's already down, completely turned off by her. The blonde turns to me with a questionable look, and I just shrug my shoulders.

«You're just not hot enough, Kaithy,»

«It's Samantha!» she slaps me across the cheek before taking off, but I can barely feel it. If it had been my counterpart, it would sting for several days. The thought makes my dick twitch. I glare at it before exiting the storage.

«Fucking psycho,» the girl flips me the finger, and people turn their faces toward me. I roll my eyes at them. Fuck what everyone else thought. I turn on my heel and don't get further than that. A brunette with long hair tied behind her head and the brightest of eyes stares at me.

I'm tempted to ask her what the hell her problem is, as the corner of her mouth turns upwards and she gives me a degrading look. _What, you couldn't get it up?_ It tells me, and I feel embarrassed for some weird reason. She doesn't say anything as she turns on her heel and walks away. Another twitch makes my eyes wander south. Cute behind, tho. The blonde might not have done the trick, but maybe this chick could be half the entertainment she had been. Ah, I can't even remember the slut's name. Wasn't like I care to begin with.

Who said I needed to stick to one girl? I'm Butch fucking Jojo. I do whatever I want, and my next goal was that smug, sexy girl. I take notice of the high heels, how they prop up a better view, how her long hair sways from shoulder to shoulder as she elegant walks like a model and book clutched in one hand. Colorful cover. It was nothing like my tomboy of a counterpart, and maybe that's why she was so attractive. Fuck Buttercup. The bitch could go die in a ditch. She wasn't half as sexy as most mortals. All I needed was to find the perfect amount of sexiness and the dick would be at it's top notch again.

I had just been surprised at how hot the brunette's body had been, that it took me off guard. Bet it wasn't even that nice. It's just an illusion, one of those placebo pills Brick talked about. You trick your mind to think something is like that when it's not. That's all she was. Fuck her.

I lick my lips when I loose my target around the corner, as I head for the only place that could give me answers without becoming a creepy stalker. Loud chatting reaches my ears as I flip the door to the cafeteria open.

People stand in lines to get their food, and I spot my brother's table. They're at the center of a huge group, both guys and girls, talking and eating. I push one of the boys away as I take a seat beside Boomer. He barely glances at me before shrugging, used to my suddenness.

«So, I saw this girl I've never seen before,» I start.

«Was it in the mirror?» Brick chuckles, and Boomer roars. I elbow him in the ribs, making the blond cough hard.

«She had dark hair tied up behind and these clear, blue eyes.»

«Congratulations, you've just described half of the girls in this school,» the blue boy dares to comment, making the group roar with laughter further, and earning an extension of his pain with an unseen punch to the chin. «She had dark makeup around her eyes. Dark, tight leggings, beautiful ass, blue sweater.»

«Could be Magy from Social studies. She's a sophomore,» one of the guys comments.

«What was her height, boob size?» another tries to help, and one of the girls nudges his side. I think it's his girlfriend, not that I care enough to find out.

«Maybe up to my nose in high? Looked to be equipped,» I grin.

«Was she carrying any books?» Brick leans on his palm, looking bored. My brother is always uninterested in girls. Sure, he slept around like I did, but in a more friendly and cold manner, however none really caught his eyes like his counterpart. She is he only thing capable of riling him up and making him loose his stone mind. Much like me, mortals were merely a plaything. While I don't give two fucks about what they think, Brick keeps up a facade. Saying sorry and thank you, without meaning it.

«Eh, Biology I think. Had those weird patterns and colors on the cover, one of those you have,» I point at the redhead.

«Pretty sure she's not in my AP class. Could be a junior,» he shrugs his shoulders.

«I could ask the girls,» Boomer finally says something helpful, rubbing his sore side. «Maybe not in your words, seeing girls easily get jealous.»

«Nah, man, you gotta tell them she's hot, because she was. I ain't wasting my time on an ugly girl.»

«If she is in AP and beautiful, she's probably too smart and would never go for you, anyway. Not when I'm around,» Brick drops his fork, done with his lunch. I scoff at him.

«Whatever,» I grunt as I rise from the table, done with the gang. If she went to this school, Boomer would find her. He knew every single one of the girls. Oh you high horsed, beautiful little vixen, watch out. Butch's coming for you.


	6. Chapter 6

**_Chapter 1. Driving you to madness_**

 _Part 6._

Bubble's P.O.V

It's the end of the day, and I'm skittish. Not only did Blossom practically run into Brick, but Buttercup had taunted Butch. Don't think she got out of that one easily, I can still hear the leaders barking in disbelief. Things are going south. It is too soon to meet Boomer. I don't think I can after how we left it off a month ago. Can't they go back to their important lives and leave us alone?

I glance over my shoulder, feeling the paranoia creep closer. It is making my heart race, my palms sweat and my knees shaky. There is no way I can act normal if he came face to face with me. What if he recognize me? Under the lot of makeup and fake spray tan? Then what? It will all be over. Fuck. Shit. No!

Last thing I heard, he's in the year over me and doing art. Drawing, drama, music, all the things I like. Actually the things I love. So I can't take them. Instead, I'm stuck with physical activities, football, handball, cheerleading, all kind of sports Buttercup wants me to take. I picked the last one myself because it's the only thing I'm able to remotely enjoy having similar properties as dancing. Whenever there is a test, she dresses up like me and takes them, so people always expect me to be perfect in everything. It's exhausting. Luckily there has only been two of them so far.

If only the ruff's weren't around, then I could do what I love, improve my skills. I can still apply to a college outside of Townsville, but it's over two and a half year left. Only then can I move on and do what I want, forget the makeup and be myself. It's so far away.

Rounding the corner, I back up with lightning speed. My worst fear is here, and I feel tears threaten to flow over. Why is he here? The blond hair, spiky in the back and the left swept bangs. Even with my point five seconds glance, I felt the deep blue gaze pierce my soul. Their footsteps are approaching my end of the hall, and I sprint as quietly as I can the opposite way.

I can't do this. He'll know the second he glances at me. Even with green eyes and heavy makeup. He will be able to tell by my bone structure and the curves of my facial expression. Just like I can spot him flawlessly with fifty clones standing around him. It's the artsy side of our personalities that makes us capable of noticing the little things.

«Hope,» the voice stiffens my movements as I draw a shaken breath while turning. Samantha Williams is marching my way. Every step is loud and makes people turn their heads. Some girls are already in talk and others send me apologetic glances. They're just glad it's not them being called out.

«I've had quite the shitty day, so bathroom, now,» she demands, gripping the upper part of my arm, probably intending it to hurt. I can barely feel it, but the fear is real.

«Can we go this way, I have something I need to get before-»

«Shut the fuck up. Who do you think you are, talking back at me like that?» she slaps me across the face and I turn with the blow, going silent. How could this happen? _This is not real, I just can't._ My breath becomes more rapid as she drags me with her.

I stare wide eyed at the floor as his shoes comes into view. The blonde isn't dragging me as hard anymore, but wraps her elbow in a friendly matter. I can hear the smile in her voice.

«Boomer,» she chirps.

«Hello Samantha,» he greets friendly. Hilary Brown is standing next to him, the other captain of the cheerleader team, and they exchange quick words, something hostile in the undertone. All the girls were crazy about the Jojo's, and they had the power to turn best friends against each other.

«Hey, Hope,» he then turns his attention toward me, and I flinch. To make it less obvious, I turn my face toward the wall to the left. I want nothing to do with him. My head is empty of escapes, my throat is closing up, and my skin is burning, and I pray to all the celestial powers out there that the makeup is thick enough to hide it.

«Don't mind her. Our mascot is just shy. That's why she insists on wearing that adorable chicken costume,» Samantha converses cruelly. Oh, yeah. I'm a part of the cheerleading crew, but they had stuffed me inside the position as a mascot, simply because I was too good at what I was doing but at the same time as they didn't want people to take notice of me. I don't mind, though, seeing we're often cheering at matches Butch's in, and the horrible costume takes all the attraction away.

What does bother me however is the fact that he knows my name. Boomer was aware of my existence in school. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep my face straight. I can't talk. He'll take notice. I can't smile, I can't make gestures, I can't acknowledge his presence, or he'll know who I am.

«That's too bad, she's quite cute.» I will not blush. I will not smile. I. Will. Not. Look. At. Him. I mentally force myself to chant anything, movie quotes, lyrics in songs, dream of unicorns across the meadows, pooping rainbows if they must. Anything to zone out his voice, his appearance, his smell.

«Of course she is, or she wouldn't be on the cheerleading team,» Hilary jokes with a fake laugh equal to her pearly teeth. Porcelain she had shown it proudly. Felt just like normal teeth, with the exception of their immunity to decaying and quality of eternal shine.

«Dressed in a chicken costume,» Boomer friendly reminds them with just as bright a smile, and I want to rip myself loose from the iron grip and get the hell out of there. I like it, I want to tell him. It hides my identity at the same time as I can do whatever I want. I can smile, I can laugh under the costume, I can dance to my hearts content, and no one will know it's me. It's freeing.

«Someone had to do it, and Hope wanted to, right?» Samantha elbows my side, but I say nothing. «See? If she didn't want to, she'd tell us so. She's fine where she is, don't mind it.»

«You sure about that?» I feel prickles of sweat at the back of my neck. No, the voice was one of cruelty and the tone he always uses to intimidate me on the battlefield. He knows. Surely he knows. Fuck. It's over. _Blossom, Buttercup, I'm so sorry. God, what have I done?_

I draw a quick breath, blinking rapidly to suppress the incoming tears. The girls aren't scared of him but shakes it off with a wave of their hands. Hilary is the first to take notice.

«Now you've scared our little bird. He's just being nice, Hope. He doesn't know you're shy and just wants to be the knight in shining armor. Don't intimidate her like that, Boomer,» she slaps his shoulder with a playful gesture.

«I'm sorry,» he mutters while scratching the back of his neck. _Sorry my ass_ , I think. Rescuing a damsel in distress? What a joke. He's a sadistic bastard that takes pleasure in degrading girls and seeing them embarrassed. He was getting off to this stuff. The nerves of the bastard, putting up such a front.

«But I have to get going. If you find anything out, let me know, 'key? Nice meeting you, Hope,» he turns a little on his head to try to look me in the eyes, but I hide them under my hair. I can't deal with this. He's too close. He's acting too nice. It's all a fake front to lour people in. But I know who he is. I know the real ruff.

 _ _«I mean it, Boomer, no one can get hurt and I get to leave afterwards,» I take a step forward, forcing him to stare at me. I'm letting him know he has to keep his promise. That I will do this if he's serious.__

 _ _He swallows, and so do I, his eyes moving to my throat. It's burning my skin. He reaches a hand out, and I let it touch my neck in good will. To show him I'm being serious, to show him I trust that he will honor our agreement. One swift movement and it will all be over, but he's just as serious about this as I am. I blush at what I've promised. Stupid is what Blossom would say. Indeed, but if it worked, it will be better than fighting. More lives will be saved. It's what I have to focus on.__

 _ _«You have yourself a deal,» he softly whisper while his thumb caress her cheek. His hand shifts and pushes me down to my knees. I'm already regretting my decision. I've never even lovingly held hands with a boy, and I'm on my way to give my first blowjob. Good going, Bubbles, I scold myself. His pants are down, and before I'm able to regret more, I'm faced with a throbbing, manly limb. It's hard to breathe with a lump blocking my throat as I carefully grab the shaft.__

 _ _«Don't break eye contact,» he forcefully push my chin upward and I open and close my mouth like a goldfish for a couple of seconds, eyes flowing with tears. His smile widens and I feel a massive wave of throbs. He was getting excited from my embarrassment.__

«Right, and we have to get going, right?» Samantha is back to her marching and I'm just glad it's over. I'm just happy I've finally left his view and can relax my facial expression. I don't know how long I've held my breath, or how many times I stopped breathing just to appear lifeless and boring.

When we get inside the bathroom, I fall to my knees in exhaustion. I can't deal with this.

«Ew, if you're that eager then get over to the stall already.» She kicks me lightly with her foot. Scrambling, mind somewhere else, I sit facing the toilet. The floor is dirty, but so am I after crashing with the dirty a couple of times. It didn't make much of a difference. It is all over.

«Draw a deep breath,» she giggles as she places her foot on the top of my head and stomps down.


	7. Chapter 7

**_Chapter 2. Round two_**

 _Part 1._

Brick's P.O.V

I'm lazily staring at the TV. The headache is worsening rapidly by the second, my crimson orbs dart to the right. Boomer is positioned on his back, staring at the blistering screen with half closed eyes. The blond is close to dozing off, and keeping it to himself. My other moronic brother on the other hand is whining loudly in his own way. Butch moves up and down from the chair, switches from tapping with his feet on the floor, bending the boards, digging is heels into the wooden table, grinding the arm supporters to bits, and it's driving me nuts to say the least.

«I will kill you if you don't shut the fuck up already,» I warn for the second time, having already trashed the place once. The fridge in the kitchen is both leaking and broken, the door is cut in half by the massive holes, one of the windows' blown out.

«I'm fucking bored,» he grunts back. Like I didn't already know that. The green ruff have a temperament that matches mine, and an even shorter fuse, making it public knowledge how he was getting bored of the waiting.

Over the last two weeks, we've tried different things to provoke the puff's out of hiding, they had after all been left alone for a month. Robbing another bank. The last one didn't didn't suffice, no trace of them. Maybe another one, then? But no matte which one we went through, there wasn't a single hint of the blasted girls. So we moved on to other things. Stealing from a jewelry store, candy store, trashing the park, flipping a building upside down. Anything to get a reaction.

Butch was going up against the wall, more than me. I longed to take it out on my counterpart, but somehow the brunette was taking this far too personal, and thus gone on to make my life a living hell. He was protesting in any way he could, even if it meant ending up in a fight with me. One he will not win. Yet he rebels.

«So am I, but we've already tried. Maybe they skipped town,» I suggest, blinking mindlessly toward the grinning blonde on the TV. She was announcing some open event, interviewing the passersby.

«Or crawled up in a hole and died,» he sulks.

«Maybe they don't care anymore,» Boomer speaks up, massaging his stomach with his left hand softly. After the reaction my counterpart had given me our last encounter, I doubt that. She was crying for a random guy. Wouldn't make sense for them to give up like this.

 _«It's such a great celebration of the new tower over here, Christian. The children are laughing, dogs are barking and the mood couldn't be better. Nothing can ruin this day,»_ the lady grins at the camera.

 _«Have you seen the Major yet?»_ the male in the studio, perfect flip of the dark hair and unnatural bright smile, asks, the footage shortly cutting to him.

 _«No, but I doubt he isn't far away,»_ the girl answers. A devilish idea pops up in my head. Maybe that was the answer.

«Shall we put it to a test, then,» I rise from the chair, placing my hand inside the jeans pocket. Flipping the trusted, red cap in place, I glance at my confused brothers. Sometimes I'm having a hard time thinking we're related. Groaning I nod toward the TV.

«Let's go see if they still care.» The footage flips to two children running, one chasing after the other, a blue sky shining brightly behind the glass. Both of grin at the same time before leaving the comfortable spots in from of the electronic.

The well spoken tower is barely a few minutes of flying, and I crash through the window first, screaming filling the cheerful air. After the first shock passes, nothing but silence is heard. Faces of confusion and wonder glance our way, quickly turning to horror.

«Bo,» Butch laughs.

«It's the Jojo brothers,» someone yells, and total mayhem breaks out. Grown men cry, women run in circles in panic, children dart off in every direction. Circling my finger, my brothers bolt each their way. I pay no mind to any of chaos. The only thing that's on my mind, is finding that camera. The blonde isn't too hard to spot, and I make quick haste of approaching the crew. She's broadcasting the live event.

«Hello, Joan. Big fan,» I pull the microphone out of her air, shoving her to the side and hold it up against my face, staring into the black lens. I can hear the scared man behind the device, but he doesn't dare move. Be it terror or curiosity.

«Good day, people of Townsville,» I start off, giving my brightest, most charming smile. «My name's Brick,» I introduce.

«I'm Butch,» my brother throws a hand over my shoulder, clicking with his tongue toward the audience.

«Boomer,» the other one pops up on the free side, winking like a true hero.

«We're bored, so let's play a game. For every minute the Powerpuff girls aren't here, we will drop someone out of the window. They can't fly like us, so it's going to be quite messy.» People are now hysterical, seeing the doors have been locked with a bent metal bar. The work of my siblings. Mother's huddle their children close.

«As a gesture of good will and just to make sure you're fully aware of what's going on,» I wave to Butch, the brunette picking up the closest person. It's a woman in her forties, pushing her child behind her and out of harms way. My brother doesn't mind the change as he flips her through the broken window I made earlier. Her scream is in perfect synchronize with her orphan child.

«Tick, tack,» I drop the mike and grab the closest person. «Keep the camera up,» I warn without a glance. I hear the protest of the middle aged man as he begs for his life, tries to buy his way out, offer up someone else, and then endless screaming as his feet leaves the floor and he's in a free fall. I glance back at the camera man, making sure he's still keeping up with the reality of the event. Tears are dripping from his chin.

«Waiting is boring,» Boomer grabs the back of his spine.

«Indeed,» I laugh loudly. I don't care who's next. Be it children, be it grown, be it elders, mothers, son's, grandparents, babies. They're all out of the window within seconds, until there's merely a handful left. They're huddling up in the corners, huge eyes and whimpering in tongues.

I reach out for one of them, a boy in his teens, dirty brown hair and chocolate eyes as a thunderous roar breaks the sound of terror, and I let him go as I turn. Butch isn't fast enough as the lime green streak tackles him and collide with the concrete. They're though and out of sight. _What?_ My mind races.

The blonde puff throws punches at my brother, and he's ready, dodging and kicking. They circle for a split second before she fires again, eyes aflame and snarling like a beast. She's angry. The timid little girl is furious beyond words.

I didn't pay them more mind but glance out the dirty window. She's hovering in the air, orange hair swaying in the wind, pink eyes glaring. It's been six weeks, and oddly enough I find myself out of breath. Had my counterpart always been this majestic?

Tilting my head I flash her a huge smile. I hate her, with every fiber of my being, yet she's the only thing that's makes me feel alive. I snatch a child out of her mother's arms. The parent screams but I've advanced too fast. Before she understand what's happening, the child is thrown outside.

The pink orbs flash in a moment of panic as she reaches out, mouth gaping open in disbelief, as I charge at the same time. Her whole side is exposed, and I connect my fist with her torso. It gives a sickening crack as she cries out. It doesn't slow her speed as her arms wrap around the small child. They twirl around in the air before coming to a halt. Judging from their size difference, I will place the little one at about four years old. It clings to her with running snot and huge sobs.

For a second, my counterpart turns toward me with a wounded look. As if my action toward the child had physically hurt her more than my fists were capable of. I feel the empty void it creates inside my chest like a stake though the heart. The irises close for a split second as she speaks softly to the child.

«It's going to be alright,» I hear her voice, and I growl angry. It makes me gain her attention again.

«This is a new low, even for a scumbag like you,» she snarl, hand soothing the back of the child. I have comebacks. How many times haven't I thought about this? So many things I can say, do, act upon, all the scenarios I've played inside my head, and I can't find one word to speak. None of my muscles want to move, and I can only tremble with anger. _I hate her. I hate her so much. I'm gonna kill her!_


	8. Chapter 8

**_Chapter 2. Round two_**

 _Part 2._

Buttercup's P.O.V

I'm so angry I see red. Not because the asphalt had been covered in bodies when we had arrived at the tower, nor because the sun had painted the beautiful sky a violent shade of crimson or the blood covering my hands from the brutal beating. I was seeing red from the overflow of emotions. The anger on it's way to consume my soul was more than welcome.

For the two last weeks we have avoided the ruffs at school. I had wore other clothes, done a different makeup, told people who asked not to tell him. I regret doing it, but if I went back to correct it, I would still take the chance to humiliate him, to laugh him up in the face when he failed. I hate his smug face, his cocky attitude, the fucking arrogance. Everything about it.

That's why I'm giving it my all. Crushing his skull against the steel foundation of the building, I feel my strength fade for a split second, and he's out of my grasp. Butch is nothing like his brothers. He's a lot like me. Instead of keeping a safe distance, taking in the opponent, consider his options, looking for an opening, he charges in head first. There is no tactic, no thinking, no evaluation, just pure strength and reflex.

We grunt, growl, bite, spit, punch, kick and with every sadistic look, I feel weaker and weaker in the knees. The push for power back and forth is making my body tingle. I hate him for what he's doing to me. I hate how he hurts others, how he kills, the fact that he's a criminal, and I hate how good the tight grip makes me feel.

The push fades away, the kicks becomes wrestling, and the first break is a push up against a wall. His grip on my wrist aren't hurtful anymore, but still forceful. They're firm, the strong chest brushing up against mine, the intense eyes and the hot breath on my lips. I can feel the tension. I can feel the tremble in both our bodies, how they respond to each other.

Just as the forest green eyes lean in closer, I push against him. Pushing from the wall, I knee him hard where the sun never shines, making the ruff groan with pain and trot around the corner. I'm not running away; I just need to create some distance between us to calm my furious heart. It's fluttering like crazy.

«Bitch,» I hear him yell out behind.

«Whatever,» I call back. I'm under no obligation to answer him, yet I need to have the last word. Every shaky step I take, I feel a stable improvement toward gaining control again. When I round the last corner, having taken a stroll around the building, I find the ruff still curled up, hands holding the sore spot.

Leaning on my knees for support, I lick my bottom lip. They feel dry like a desert and the heat on my skin won't subside, so I guess this is as good as it's going to get. Falling back into a fighting stance I lift my hands up to block my torso, like a boxer I fist my hands.

«I'm going to kill you for doing that,» he coughs while rising to his full height, spitting on the ground.

«Blah, blah, blah,» I sarcastically motion at him, two fingers wiggling for the bastard to attack. Sweaty palms, hormones going crazy and a faint red hue on my skin, I can't delay it any longer. My counterpart mimic the stance perfectly down to the smallest detail, toes pointing, distance between the guarding hands, chin low, eyes furrowed barely over the knuckles. He moves first, leaping forward with a rising kick. My left hand grabs at the ankle, just in time to prevent any fatal damage. My hand throbs with a faint feeling of pain.

I curse my state. We've always been able to match the boys in power, but the difference is how they can maintain it without using up the chemical-x in their system. I don't know much about how we came to be, my sisters and I, but from the little I bothered to listen to, we were the prototypes. The professor made us first, and thus we're flawed.

The green ruff twirls around his equilibrium before a hand shoots out to my right, going for a perfect backhand. I duck, feeling the power spark over my head. The tips of my hair gives of the burnt sent, and I fall back. To my horror, I'm shaking. It's barely been ten minutes, and I'm out of power. Wouldn't be long now before my powers were lacking, and I wouldn't be able to land one hit on him. I need to finish it up as fast as I can.

There is barely any room for a breather, the green beast following my patterns of movement. He goes in for another attack, and I find myself backtracking more. Glancing around, I look for any opening, anything I can use to my advantage. The distraction nearly cost my a shoulder as I hit a wall and skit to the side from the incoming fist.

It feels like ice cold water washes over my body, a feeling of dread lingering in my panicking heartbeats, and I decide it's about time to go on the offense. There is one thing I could do; something I had witnessed Blossom do in the past to deal with the bothersome brainiac, but the chance of success was under ten percentage, according to my sister. It was that or nothing.

Aiming for his face, I faint around the risen guard and arcuate my back down. It takes every part of my concentration to perform the glow in my left arm. It's drastically drains my power, and I feel a shock through my body. The world trembles and I cough hard, focus lost. A strong hand twists the hand out of reach, and I want to scream. At myself for failing such a simple task, at Butch for being an idiot, and the lack of power residing inside myself.

I felt a moment of deja vu when the concrete brush against my exposed stomach, chin rubbing the raw surface, hand wrestling in an iron grip and the heat of a second body. He's forceful, trapping me between the man made monument, and his extraterrestrial frame. I feel the ripples of lust, but I can't determine if it's his or mine.

«Get the fuck off me,» I growl, the sound is mocking in my ears. It lacks the strong will I previously owned, and I wiggle around, trying to make a statement. The only thing saying no was my head; body already fired up and ready. Curse him. To hell with this stupid behavior I can't place and his blasted laughter. It's rolling of his tongue, tickling my ear, sending chills of pleasure down my abdomen. I curse loudly.

«I've missed this,» he purrs, lips touching the sensitive base of my neck. I flinch from the touch. Throughout the years of fighting and endless torment, the wounds healed with some extra help from chemical-x, but the scars remained. The boys didn't need the extra dosage, having never seen any of the wounds leave traces of cicatrix's, I can presume they heal completely. The damaged tissue is extra sensitive, making every following battle that much harder. At one point, it felt like I was walking on glass and couldn't fight for half a year. The longer between every fight, the better for us. It allowed time to get better.

«I hate you,» I mutter to my best efforts.

«Likewise,» he murmurs. I feel his hand swipe my short hair away as he nuzzle in closer, inhaling strongly. It feels odd. I've never felt comfortable with my body, the pink tissue alienating my skin, the ugliness of battle wounds making array and unwelcome patterns. My skin sparkles with statics, and as I try to take in some air, it's cut short from a shiver.

I remember seeing on TV how some animals played dead or lay still when ambushed by a predator, fear freezing their bodies. That's what I feel at this moment. As long as I don't move, there is little to no danger. But I can't remain in this position. My knees are weak, I shake from the pain blocked by pure adrenaline and the emotions are chocking me. The grip is numbing my hands, and I feel light headed. Damn it. My conscience is slipping.

Pulling at the grip, I try my best to crane my neck to stare at him to get a better look at the situation. Big mistake. Massive mistake. His temple is resting on my shoulder blade and the intense orbs meet with mine. His eyebrows are bushy but not beyond their respective boundaries, the dark forest eyes sparkle with mischievous and the grinning smile flash a perfect row of teeth. Of course, they just have to sparkle. I feel a painful pulse on the left side of my head, blinking hard to chase the dizziness away. It does little to help.

A dark voice is whispering in my ear, I can't hear what he's saying, but the tone is low and calm. Another imaginary hammer smashes against my brain, and I lean my head forward until it hits the wall. I chuckle softly. Shit. It's over. I can't do anything. _Fucking hell I hate this bastard._

«Shit,» my knees buckle under my weight with the last statement. Everything goes numb, dark, and warm.


	9. Chapter 9

_**Chapter 2. Round two**_

 _Part 3._

Boomer's P.O.V

If I'm going to be honest, I know why she's angry. I know why the sweet angel face is twisted with sadness and rage, the hair dancing furiously around her, the fists filled with strength I didn't know she was capable of, why she was faster than usual.

More than my brothers, I have a slightly more sense of moral code. I know what we did was wrong, but on the other side; I enjoy it. I like being evil. I like robing people, I like hurting others, I like stealing, I like being the villain, I love messing with Bubbles. Every pain I cause her, all the reasons for her depression, whenever she's too embarrassed to look someone in the face, I'm the cause of it. All the negative things in her life; I'm making myself the source of it.

The metal door marked with a green sign and white, lit letters reading exit is getting one hell of a beating. She's driven me around the corner, out of the bolstered room, away from my brothers, away from the prying eyes with a disgusting spark of hope, and in the process of kicking me out of the building. Another dent shrieks in the air like a wounded animal. It will honestly be faster and easier to open the door and gesture her out, but the way her teeth are gritted tells me she will send me physically through it rather than over the threshold.

«Bubbles,» I try to say, but she lashes out, breaking the hinges. The emergency stairs are suddenly going down, and I hover to not fall. Glancing quickly over the railing, I see the twenty-one floors down. Even for someone like me, a fall like this will do some crucial damage.

«Why?» She screams as she kicks me flat in the chest, knocking the air out of my lounges. Eyes wide in shock – how could I let my guard down like that? - I feel the concrete give under the force of my back, and we're out of the building. The ground under me is crawling with people, some screaming from the sudden broken building. _Cretins is the perfect word for them._

A soft, small hand comes into my peripheral view, and I guard it with both my outer arms, attention drawn back to my counterpart. She's about to make another attack, but the grip around her clenched fist freeze's her in place. The anger wavers behind her baby blue orbs, and it's the second I need. Twisting to my left, I drive my right elbow into her stomach. She's too close to guard in time. It connects with the soft flesh. Now it's her turn to gasp for oxygen.

«Bubbles,» I chuckle softly, licking my dry lip. «Bubbles, Bubbles, Bubbles,» I taste her name. It feels soft, just like her.

«Why did you-» she's having problems drawing a deep breath, cutting the sentence awkwardly off.

«What, throw people out of the building?» I finish. _Wasn't that cute. Finishing her sentence. We're practically made for each other._ I laugh loudly from the though. She nods her head, rubbing the sore spot.

«It was fun,» I shrug. «Because whatever else we did, you refuse to see me. That's hurtful, you know. After what we did, how we connected,» I grin. The feeling of her mouth is still too fresh in memory for me to be able to touch anyone else. Which ever woman threw herself at me, just felt like a cheap replacement. This was the real deal.

«You dare,» she glance up at me, fresh tears stream down her eyes. «You dare talk about hurt after killing those innocent people?» I scoff. She couldn't honestly be serious.

«Did you know any of them?» A slight flick of anger is harboring inside my voice. All those times I thought about seeing her again. What we would do, how she would react.

«No,» She opens her mouth to speak again, but I cut her short.

«Then what does it matter?»

«Every single person knew someone, is dear to _someone_ , and you just ended their life, and for what?» She straightens up, fist clenched, eyes flowing with tears. «So you could have fun and see me again?» Bubbles screams.

«Well, yeah. I don't care about them, I do about you, tho,» I dodge her punches, giving her one of my most sincere smiles. I do care about Bubbles. Besides my brother's, she's the only one I feel anything toward.

Brick always said how he hates Blossom, how she's stepping on his nerves with her good-girl attitude, how he's going to enjoy killing her one day, and Butch is keen to have someone he can fight with, go all out on, a punching bag. I don't dislike Bubbles, but rather the opposite.

«You're so full of shit,» she drench her fist in a blue light, lashing out faster than my eyes can observe, and I'm left with a blank mind as she hands me a powerful punch. I can't register what's going on before I feel a throb of pain from the wounded spot, back curved up against the hole my crash had made in the asphalt, people rushing out of the way. _What happened?_ I blink once, twice, thrice.

I watch as she lands in front of me, wiping tears away with a new found energy. She appears to be glowing with the same cold color as her fist had been a couple of seconds ago. Or had it been minutes? I can't remember falling. I can't remember crashing.

«Get up,» she commands. With the warrior aura and stern look, I feel myself getting excited. Is this what Butch experiences? Is this why he's always nagging to go fight the Powerpuffs? I break my shoulder loose from the print she had made from me. Bubbles glance up from me for a second, and I see her eyes widen in horror.

«Buttercup,» she screams, and I follow her look. The brunette is fainted on the ground, face turned away from us, my brother standing over her. He cranes his neck our way from the sudden outburst, and flashes the blonde an evil, toothy smile over his shoulder.

I can feel the sprung muscles, the feet ready to take off, her hands vibrating with fear, but I'm faster. I bounce out of my pit, arm locked around her waist. With brute strength my brother would be proud of, I lounge her into the tight alley. The body ricochets of the walls and ground as she yells out in pain.

Butch laughs somewhere behind me, and I advance after her before she's out of my sight. Coughing hard, she's cradled up on her side, gripping around her abdomen. She appears to be in great pain.

«Aw shucks. Look what you made me do,» and I mean it. Sure, it's all fun and games to play with her, but then the feminine side comes out, and reminds me why I'm head over heels for this girl. The chaotic hair, blue eyes filled with hurt, lips pulped. I bite my lower lip. If only she can just give in to what we want, it'll be so much better. There was no denying the spark between us, so why fight it? It doesn't make any sense.

«Look, babe. We've fought, can we skip to the nice part now?» I scratch the backside of my head. «It's not like I'm really trying to hurt you. Have to make a show for our siblings, right? Nobody's watching at this moment, though.»

«You disgust me,» she glares. I glance around. No Butch. No Brick. Can't see any of her sisters either. _What?_

«We have an agreement,» I remind her, feeling a painful knot in my heart. Why is she playing with me like this?

«Which you broke!» she screams, placing her arms over her eyes. I can hear the leaking in her voice. She's back to crying. _Shit_. «No one can get hurt.»

«Well,» I dumbfound mutter. «That was then. Besides, that was all Brick's idea.»

«You still killed people, Boomer! You broke the accord first!»

«Because you refused to see me, Bubbles!» I bark back. Six weeks. That's how long I've waited to see her again, and she has been avoiding me. Refusing to come to a lousy robbery of a bank, or any other store. Refusing to meet up. «I've tried for one and a half month to get a hold of you, but you just refuse to see me. What's a guy have to do to get your attention? Killing people, it seems.»

«It's not like I can dial your number or flash the bat sign in the sky every time I want to see you,» I pace back and forth, gesticulate to make a stronger point. «I have no way of getting a hold of you. So tell me,» I walk up to her laying form and crouch down. Our eyes meet. «How can I reach you?»

«I-» We're interrupted.

«Bubbles, catch!» Blossom calls out from over our heads, dropping something. I hear her bark insults and verbally fight with my brother. He's equally as fired up, screaming loudly. Our attention quickly turn to whatever is soaring toward the ground.

I hear her snap for her breath before she's off the ground and in the sky, darting toward the moving object. Curious, I follow. We don't get very far. She grips hard around the object and slowly drops down again. When we're on eye level, I see the bundle of blonde hair in her arms. Two azure eyes glance between me and her.

«Mommy?» the boy asks and she freezes in her movement. Bubble's chest moves up and down as she snaps for her breath, a lump forming in her throat. Her baby blue eyes land on me, culpability filling them.

The small human could very well be her child, and I find myself dry in the throat at the thought. My ears become warm. _Fuck._

«I'll do it, but you have to keep your promise this time,» her voice is soft. «And you have to do something else to make up for it, right now.» I want to say ' _anything_ '. I never hit her in the face. I can't. No matter how much we fight, her beautiful smile makes my heart throb painfully hard, and her warm orbs makes the impossible chance of us being together feel slightly possible.


	10. Chapter 10

**_Chapter 2. Round two_**

 _Part 4._

Blossom's P.O.V

«Bubbles, catch!» I yell at my blonde sister. She's on her back, hands covering her face. _Is she hurt?_ I'm about to swoop down to save the kid in free fall, when I see him tucked safely in her arms. I take a deep breath in relief. The reason I had given the child away was because I wasn't capable of holding on to him any more nor keep him safe.

«It's just a child, you sadistic bastard!» I bark at my counterpart as he grab my broken arm and squeeze. He'd been aiming for it, knowing fully well I will shield it to my best extent. It had resulted in an broken left arm and quite the nasty wound to my right leg, tearing the white stocking. It feels like it's on fire, burning hot and wet.

«Like I care,» he hiss, grinding his grip. Screaming out in pain, I thug at the captivated limb to get free, spitting and barking insults at the pain. Brick ridicule my vain attempt at the snorting laugh.

«Let go,» I bark.

«No,» Brick pulls me closer. «How does it feel being useless? To be unable to save the world? Not so perfect now, are you?» There's something bitter inside his voice, something hateful and dark. Something I haven't heard before. Hate had always been a strong motive for his actions, but this felt too close to desperate. I don't understand.

«What are you talking about?» I growl. The bone is sticking out from the front of the arm, twisting the rest in an awkward angle. Using it is beyond reason, and I'm just glad I have rolled up the sleeves of the dark cotton shirt to prevent it from staining. Blood is a pain to remove from clothes.

«You always have to dress perfectly, appear perfectly, do things like a hero, speak with such elegance. Sitting up on your high horse, how's the world down here with the rest of us, bitch? How does it feel to be powerless?» He pull me closer by the waist, crimson eyes cold and cruel. I flinch from the increasing pressure on the broken bone.

«Brick, you're insufferable,» I push with my free hand, trying to create some distance between us. His smell can only be described as warm and hot, maybe a hint of pepper.

« _Sorry,» the crimson eyes spark with a hint of mischievous, but the kindness and calm behind them is contagious_. I feel my heartbeat pulsate painfully throughout my veins, mouth dry and clench my jaw. My mind is playing tricks on me. Even if it was something so little, something so meaningless, I keep dreaming about it. For the last two weeks, it's bothering my concentration with homework, it haunts my dreams, it's stuck on my minds eye, and no amount of anything can prevent the skip of a beat I feel every time.

«You're unbearable, wicked, cruel and you have no idea,» I whisper. All I want is to see the same side of him, the one moment he had given me. It probably doesn't mean anything to him, he probably doesn't even remember it happening, but it was burned within my soul.

Every logical part of my brain is screaming at my stupidity. How he's not like that, how he's a criminal, born for great chaos and that's who he truly is; but a part of me is clinging to desperate hope for the other side of him. I want to see it again.

«Don't flatter yourself. I'm the bad guy,» he grins at my horrid face, eyes slightly widened and I feel my lips part. There is a twist in my heart, one that brings tears to my eyes, hurt the pit of my stomach and I fight harder to get free. I have to get away from him. I need to put some distance between us. I need space to breathe.

«What's with the panic attack? Is the pain too much to bear?» He suddenly pulls at the arm, throwing me down. I scream as I collide with the hard roof. It caves in with protest. A faint layer of dust twirls around me. Wouldn't it be easier to give up? I think.

It wasn't like they would ever stop harassing the city, and it wasn't like we could beat them. The only thing we did, was meet up and entertain their twisted amusement before running off like cowards with tails between our legs. I kick the broken building with my heel in protest. No, we can't just give up. Without us, they would kill people left and right. They won't ever stop unless someone beats them, and the only one who can, is us.

A sharp kick to my ribs have me roll on the side, gasping for air. I feel the dent on the side, probably broken. Chuckling uncontrollably, I feel him roll me over to my back again and mount my stomach. Hands wrap around my throat.

«What's so damn funny? You're about to die, and nobody is going to save you.» His face is twisted with anger and confusion. I see the worn, all too familiar cap, visor turned to the backside of his head. The bangs stick out uncontrollably, hair tangled around his stern frame.

«Doesn't it get in the way?» I puff through the tight grip, hands moving to help me. I find the lack of strength almost embarrassing, and let them rest on top of his. They're warm, like a blanket.

«What?» he looks taken aback. Surely, I would be too in his position. Back dots dances in front of my vision. His fingers feel stiff and intense.

«Your hair. I always tie mine up, but you're so persistent in tugging the ribbon off all the time.» His grip has loosened, but is still resting wrapped around my neck. No matter how you look at it, it's my loss. Brick shakes his head in confusion, as if I'm speaking in tongues.

«Too many blows to the head,» I explain with a large smile. It is getting hard to keep my eyes open. The only injury he has suffered this time is a couple bruises and a busted lip from a pretty impressive roundhouse kick. Even with a child in my arms, I had managed to do some damage. That's at least to some sort of comfort.

«You're just giving up, like this?» Brick scoffs. He sounds insulted.

«Yeah,» I glance at the blue sky instead. It's advancing to darker shades, night time approaching dangerously fast. Autumn have these kind of effects on the day. I wonder if this is it. The scenery is quite to my liking; I don't mind dying at this moment. At the hands of someone I can't help liking. My side torment my viscera under the crazy laugh.

Who would have known that he only needed to look at me that way for me to fall for him? The playboy which takes every chance he gets to beat the crap out of me, hates me with every fiber of his being and I'm hopelessly in love with him. Every time I see him, every time I hear him, it gets worse. I'm suppose to be the level headed out of us, yet I'm acting like such a fool at this moment.

«Do you want to die that much?» He lashes out on the roof beside my head, knuckle red, dripping crumbles. The other hand is still wrapped around my throat, but the grip is loose. He's barely touching the sore skin.

«No,» I feel my lips pulling down with a tremble. «I don't want to die. I want to go to high school. I want to study, go to a college, get a degree in something I like, go to work. I want to fall in love, see my sisters live.» My orbs flicker back to his face. _I have fallen in love, but I wish it was someone else._

«You're the villain and I have an obligation to this city. With great powers comes great responsibility.»

«Winston Churchill,» Brick mutters.

«You read,» I smile. Of course he does. He's my counterpart. Whatever I enjoy, surely he must have some attraction toward it. Something flickers behind his eyes, and he removes himself from on top of me. I suck in a deep breath of fresh air. It's burning my insides, I feel the sharp pricking pain from my wounds return. Huffing hard, I'm having problems staying awake.

«I'm bored of playing with you so I'm going home for the day.» He turns his back to me and pauses for a second. I haul myself up with a grunt. Every part of my body is aching. The chemical-x is surely almost out of my system soon.

« _Sorry,» his hand is gentle yet strong, his eyes are deep with a soft smile._ I'm tormenting myself. His word echoes inside my head, _his warm hands linger on my skin, the intense gaze makes me flustered and wiggly._ I bite the bottom of my lip. _You're cruel_ , I want to tell him.

«Yeah,» is all I can say as I stumble over my steps, trying my best to stand up.

«Well, then,» he moves swiftly. I feel the pain before I can react, I see the movement but can't stop him. The kick connects with my face, and I'm back on the ground. This time the world has gone dark. I grunt from the numbing pain. «Revenge for last time.» I feel his loss of presence as the cold air wraps itself around me.


	11. Chapter 11

**_Chapter 2. Round two_**

 _Part 5._

Butch's P.O.V

In all the time I've known the green puff, I've never seen her faint. At first, I thought it was a clever scheme to get out of my grip, but when her sister called out in such a pained manner and she didn't react at all, I knew this wasn't some cheap trick.

Crouching down by her side, I study the calm face. She's always so full of rage and fury, my perfect reflection. Usually it's a collision of emotions and power, brutal and raw and honest, and the contrast to this lifelessness is astonishing.

I can hear my siblings and their counterpart bark and scream at each other, verbally attacking. The words aren't clear enough to capture them, but I hear the tone in their voices. With a finger, I brush her hair away from the face, exposing a soft cheek and the slim neck.

She's the very definition of embodiment of pure power, yet her frame is so minuscule it's almost hard to believe the things she's capable of. My finger follows the jawline to her chin, thumb touching the smooth surface of her lips.

Her upper torso is covered with a black tank top and a abdomen short green jacket. It's zipped shut in the middle. Somehow, I feel nervous as it squeals open. Might as well allow myself to a sample of the forbidden fruit.

A twitch in my fingertips makes me slightly pause, hand hovering over her chest. It's not like I haven't touched a girl before – done my fair share of sexual orientation and variations – but this was something else. This puff isn't a normal girl. She's _the_ girl. The one you know is right.

Her chest rise from the deep breath, I suck it up and land my palm on top of her. It's softer than expected, and fuller too. Rubbing and massaging, I'm surprised at the volume. When had she become this equipped? Pinching the perked skin, she shifts and allows me a low moan. It's enough to tighten my pants.

Clicking with my tongue, I scoop her up into my arms by the shoulder and knees and fold my legs in a sit. Seating her magnificent bottom half against my right leg, I wiggle a little when I feel it rub up against me. It takes all of my willpower not to rip her shorts off and take her there and then. Besides, that would be a little weird.

Personally I don't mind going nuts on her, but she's going to have to be awake for it. Raping an unconscious girl is just weird. Have to give them a chance to fight back, right? No, that will have to wait for later or if she wakes up. Could try to slap her cheek to see if it gives any result.

Feeling up the side of her body, taking in the hips, the small and well leaned waist, muscles on her back, soft chest, I end at her face. Her mouth is half open, long eyelashes pointing to the sky, hair swept back from the gravity, small, pointy nose. I touch the top of it, following the bridge up, between her straight eyebrows, over her forehead to her hairline and back down in one slow motion.

She turns toward me, hand moving on top of her chest, palm facing my torso. As if to feel my heartbeat. It's raging furiously, painfully screaming in my ears. My chin automatically rests on the top of her head. Wrapping my hand on her lower back, I pull the tiny girl closer. Another soft moan on my shoulder makes me grit my teeth. This is becoming dangerous.

«B,» the rest is muzzled out, and I crane my neck to get a better view of her face. «Bitch,» she mutters, sighing deeply. I chuckle. Of course. Should have known the cute side of hers only goes so far.

My hand rounds the front, following the line of her stomach, slipping to the inner side of her thigh, down to her knee, to the outer side, speeds up the backside of her leg. The girl twists in my grip. _She's just as affected as I am_ , I think.

The thought is making matters worse, throbs rapidly bouncing against her butt. I'm torturing myself. A small part of me is hoping for her to wake up so I can just jump and get it over with. I could forcefully do it. I glance at the dark lashes, the toned skin. Somehow, I don't want to hit her awake. Don't mind wrestling and punching her, but right now, there is no need.

My hand push the tank top out of the way, and I find the skin. It's softer then I remember, and I flip the cloth further up to stare at the exposed body. She's covered in scars. Touching the one leading to her hipbone, I remember blasting her there when we had been eleven. It had gushed with blood, and Blossom had saved her by ganging up on me. Another line draws across her bellybutton. It had been from a shard, been thrown through a window in the middle of a fight.

I frown. My wounds always healed, leaving no traces of there ever having been one in the first place. Odd how the battle maps itself out on her like this. My index follow the unique patters up the rib. Two parallel dots remind me of the one time I had shot her. We had been about eight, and I had stolen a gun from the police officer. She had cursed loudly at my cowardice. That was before we became faster than bullets. It would be futile to use a gun in our present battles.

Flipping the fabric out of the way, I circle her nipple. Buttercup whimpers with lust, and I rest my forehead against hers, staring at every frame. I want to remember everything, I want to see everything. Every part of her, feel every part. Orbs moving down her stomach, I bite my bottom lip, slightly sucking on it.

Before I can change my mind, I feel it south. I don't dare move my body from the stiff position, embarrassed it might trigger an unwanted ejaculation. Either she's newly shaved, or just lack hair, and my hand hovers. I can feel the warmth emitting from it, her cheeks are flustered, breath hot on my neck.

Dipping my middle finger down, it soaks pretty fast. Pulling out, breath rapid, heart pounding like crazy, my gaze is fixated on the liquid, and I lick it. It's sweet, and I'm about to explode. Soon I'll have it all, see her wriggle with pleasure under my touch. When she wakes, she's mine.

«Butch,» someone calls, and I glance up. Annoyance fills me, and I glare at my blond brother. He's a good distance away, eyes pointing at the sky. His hand waves me closer, and I growl as I seat the puff down. Stuffing my hands inside my jeans pockets to hide the erection as much as possible, I'm ready to murder him for interrupting.

«What the fuck do you want?» I hear the thick tone in my voice and growl to loosen the oddness of it.

«I can see you're busy so I'm gonna make this quick. Do you have a match on Friday?» I rise an eyebrow.

«Eh, yeah. So what?»

«Samantha was wondering earlier, and I said I'd ask,» he shrugs.

«I'm not interested in her anymore,» I fold my arms, buffing my chest up. That was the cheerleader captain I'd ditched after she got offended. Girl are too sensitive. It's just sex anyway, what does it matter what I call her?

«Really?» He leans back on his heel.

«Yeah, now scram back to that little harpy of yours. I'm busy,» I shoo him with one hand. Fingers twitching with anger. «You really could have taken this later at home.»

«True,» he shrugs, leaning his head thoughtful to his left. «Uh-oh.»

«What?» I grumpily bark at him.

«I thought Buttercup had fainted,» he points past me. I spin around, not knowing what to expect. The Puff is nowhere to be seen. Narrowing my eyebrows I glance left and right. The place is empty.

«Fuck!» I stomp the ground. Since when had she been awake? Turning to my brother, I spit curses left and right. «Fucking hell, Boomer! I had her yet again within my grasp, and you blue cunts shit all over it! I'm going to strangle you guys!» I blast the closest building. It crumbles, but the roar from the chaos is nowhere close to my rage. She was right there! I had her within my grasp!

«Sorry, won't happen again,» my brother hasty move out of the way of my wrath. I'm not listening to him, not bothering with him anymore. Taking to the sky, I scout the area. She can't have gotten far. Glancing at my hand, I can still feel the softness of her hair, the silky skin, the alluring nipples, the wetness of her. Swallowing, I fist my hand. She's not getting away. Not this time.


	12. Chapter 12

_**Chapter 2. Round two**_

 _Part 6._

Bubble's P.O.V

I lay down on the bathroom floor. My feelings are all over the place, sick with worry and inward disgust. The feeling of warmth and numbness resides in my stomach, at the same time as it's unknown. A loud protest slips between my fingers, not one of hunger but digesting. It feels alien, and bad; an evil mixture of poisons broiling inside me.

 _«It's done,» Boomer doesn't look at me. The child is long gone, and I'm glad I can at least get this one to safety. Something stiff in his attitude fills me with foreboding._

 _«Where is Buttercup? Is she safe? Alive?» Panic is soundable in my voice, but I can't help the high tone it causes._

 _«She's safe now, alright,» he shifts, scratching the back of his neck. He is feeling awkward and suddenly it all makes sense._

 _«What did Butch do?» I growl, ready to skip the buildings over and give him one fat beating. If he thought he could do something lewd and get away with it - !_

 _«Trust me on this one, Bubbles. You don't want to know.» The seriousness in his eyes sends chills down my spine. A brief moment passes, and he's on top of me, forcefully pushing my back against the wall. «Now, about that price of mine for the favor.»_

I came home first, not knowing hours would pass without hearing from my sisters. I have no idea what happened to Blossom. Didn't even see her on my way back, not sure if I wanted to. Probably couldn't look her in the eyes if I did.

The professor was out on an errand, leaving a note on the door of the fridge. It was yellow and the message slurry written, just like any doctor. My mouth had been dry so I had tried to drink something. Water was repelled the second it slid down my throat, messing up the sink with stomach acid.

I tried orange juice, coke, milk and iced coffee. Nothing stuck, so I withdrew myself to the bathroom. My new resident at the moment, the toilet my only friend. Takes all the shit I throw at it without protest. The soft chuckle feels abnormally loud and the room too big.

Fingers softly circling the soft flesh on my abdomen, I dig my heels into the heat radiating tiles I flip myself over to my side. It feels more stable in a way; the pressure slightly subsides, leaving a relieved sigh.

Worry is still crushing me down, but even if I went searching, I have no idea where to start, where to search, where to go. They could be on the other side of the town, stuffed inside a container, and I would never be able to find them. Like my pseudonym, I can only hope they will find their way back. Tears are at the brink of spilling over, a bitter taste in several layers filling my dry mouth. Swallowing is hard, and it takes a good second of maximum power to get the single drop of saliva down my throat.

 _Those ocean deep eyes are filled with lust and greed, an aura of possession wrapping itself around him. His jacket is open, displaying a gray blue t-shirt, pants loosely hanging around his ankles, boxers following the lead. It feels like forever since last time – my first time – and I still have no clue where to start._

 _Gripping the limb, the softness of it, raw muscles pulsating, I feel sick with disgust over myself. On my knees in a back alley like any other hooker; and the worst part is I can't whine about it. I've chosen this, over the alternative to fight. To save lives. To save my sisters._

 _I stifle a terrified tremble and swallow, wetting my lips. There was no need to stall out the time, yet I find myself doing it. A hand pushes against my right temple and I freeze under the touch. I want to bite him, to spit, to curse him out and get away, but a promise is a promise._

 _«Good girl,» he pats my head like some kind of pet. «Open your mouth and stick your tongue out,» he instructs, and I slowly oblige. The grip tightens, and tears spill over as his dick is rammed down my throat._

The sound of doors opening snap me out of the memory, and I jolt up. Leaving the comfortable, warm floor, I stumble my way around the corner and down the stars to the living room. Blossom is leaning heavily against the door, a hand on her head, one eye shut, the other half open.

«Bloss,» I call out, ending it with a huge, emotional sob. «It's been hours since I came home alone, and I wasn't sure whenever you would be back or what happened. Gosh, I've been worried sick.»

«I know. I'm so sorry,» the reply is grating at best. She stumbles over and I catch her, supporting and guiding her over to the couch. A whimper of pain leaves her lips as we relax and lean back. She's looking worse and worse by the second. A swollen and purple bruise around her throat stands out the most. The left arm, closest to mine, is smeared in blood, and I notice the sparkling of white in it. My brain needs a moment to process that it's her bone sticking out.

«Ouch,» I sympathize.

«We have to break it back in place,» she breathes heavily, lifting the damaged limb. We've done this several times before; broke bone can't bend itself back in shape, it needs to be lead, or that's at least what the redhead have always said. I tentatively and careful grap at her wrist and elbow.

«One, two-»

«You can't do it on five like you always do, Bubs. You'll have to do it when I'm not expecting it, like we do with dislocated shoulders. The pain will be shorter and more sudden. It'll be better, just like we've always done,» her eyes are feverish, and I'm scared. What if she was bleeding internally? What of she had a concussion? So many things could be wrong at the same time.

«Okey, I get it,» I promise.

«I'm serious, I can't know when you -» and I pull as hard as I can as I bend in the opposite direction of the injury. My sister screams out on pain, clapping her mouth shut as fast as she can. I release the arm, hands shaking uncontrollably. I don't want to hurt her. My sister turn her face toward me.

«I'm fine,» a faint smile slips past her. «It'll heal. There there,» she brushes a couple tears away, ones I'm not aware I had shed. We sit still for another hour before the brunette comes home. She's looking a lot better than Blossom, but just as tired.

«Where have you been?» Blossom sounds accusingly.

«I have no idea. Woke up on this random field outside of Townsville. Grass higher than my head, couldn't tell where I was at first. Can't remember getting there, too. I'm fucking tired. My powers ran out about three clicks back, had to walk the rest of the way.» She's grumpy, throwing her shoes off in an aggressive manner, dumping down beside the redhead. The TV is clattering, but nothing in particular is on.

«Language.»

«Don't you start,» my green eyed sibling snarls. The pink irises do a somersault inside her orbs with a grunt in discomfort. Picking up the remote, the brutish girl starts flicking through the channels, not really looking.

«Quite a nasty beating,» she finally comments, glancing at the leader. She's too proud to admit it; she's worried. «Want me to take him on the next time, slap him around?» she offers.

«No, that's alright,» Blossom smiles. «What doesn't kill you only hurts but you'll live, isn't that what you say?»

«Makes you stronger, Bloss. Geeze, you had one job,» she scoffs, sounding offended by her lacking, but a small smile is playing a the corner of her mouth. I chuckle at their bickering. It was their way of getting along, and you can tell their bonds are strong that way.

«I have a mid-mid term math test tomorrow,» the brunette mutters.

«What?» Blossom sits straight up, staring horrified at her. «And you couldn't have told me this earlier because?»

«I only got the memo today from Mitch, and we were kinda busy with the bastards.» Her only apology is a shrug of the shoulders.

«I – we can't. Bubbles have to switch with me tomorrow for the art presentation.»

«The what?» I glance up from my spot, smile faltering on my face.

«You asked me weeks back to sign you up for that art competition, and I did. It's tomorrow. Did you forget?»

«Yeah,» I bluntly answer. It had completely slipped my mind. I do remember touching the poster at the school board and begging her to allow me to go, and after countless times of pleading, she had eventually agreed to do it.

«Wait, so I can actually go and have gym tomorrow?» the life is back in the brunette, her eyes filled with fire and interest.

«This is not a good idea,» Blossom bites her lower lip in though. «Something is going to go wrong.»

«It's just seven hours,» I nudge her encouragingly.

' «You get to take your own notes in class for once,» Buttercup leans in from the other side. It got her attention, and I can tell this is something she wants more than anything else.

 _«Tragedy hit Townsville today. The celebration of the newly opened tower on fifth and sixth Blake street was quickly turned to a horrifying massacre. Forty seven victims are identified from the catastrophic event caused by the Jojo brothers earlier this evening, as they proceeded to throw people out of the building on the fourteenth floor. Among the victims were six children,»_ the reporter in the news is serious, and I feel a chill of death on my skin. Reality came crushing in. The joy had barely surfaced before it got pushed down again from heavy guilt, sorrow, and disgust.


	13. Chapter 13

**_Chapter 3. Playing with fire_**

 _Part 1._

Brick's P.O.V

As I exit my classroom, finishing the progress measuring test before anyone else as usual, I notice something odd a couple classrooms down. A female I have never seen before is wandering the halls with a piece of paper in her hands, cheeks rosy and dark hair bundled up high on her head. Judging from the immature gleam I place her in the class under me.

Heels click softly against the tiles on the floor, purple tights showing of her wonderful legs, a dark tunika with long sleeves dancing suggestively around her. A blue scarf is wrapped around her throat, touching the base of her chin. Dark makeup frames the blue eyes. She's holding two books to her chest, hand steadily grasping the sheet between her index and thumb in front of her face; accommodating traffic, she is focused on reading. Without glancing up, she evades people, leap over obstacles, spin out of the way for anyone, and is still stuck in her own world. A phantom smile brushes her beautiful mouth.

This is the girl Butch is so obsessed with finding I realize.

«Stop,» I command, freezing everyone in place in the hallway. Scared eyes turn as best their sculpture body allows. Closing the distance between us, I end up at her side. «You stay, the rest can leave.» I meet her terrified gaze; it doesn't last longer than a split second. The news about last night must have hit the mundane heart pretty hard. _Such a shallow person_.

«You're a junior, right?» the voice sounds harsher than intended. I clear my throat casually.

«I am,» she answers, voice silky; just like her now relaxed face. A tone in it seems familiar. Had her soft gaze been hard, chest bloated in stead of slump shoulders, hair orange and eyes pink, I could understand why my mind would wander to _her_ ; but this person is nothing like my counterpart, yet something inside me place them in the same box. There is no way Red would succumb under me like this girl is. Not without a fight, that is. _Ridiculous_.

One of the books is advanced biology, matching my brute brother's description. No doubt about it, this is probably the girl he's looking for. Scoffing, I touch my chin tentatively. For a human, she was quite pleasant to look at. _I wonder about her intellect._

«What's your name?» this time I'm asking her without pushing; without my powers. If she refuses to tell me, I can always make her. The undertone is meant to be calming and friendly, but it sounds more like the purr of an intrigued tiger.

«Lilly Lockwood.» She doesn't seem to notice the atmosphere, flashing me a kind smile. The previous nervousness have washed off, replaced with open interest. She's not scared of me at the moment. I cough once, not sure about the meaning of the twitch the corner of my lip does.

«You're a freshman, right? How do you like your classes so far?» I make an amiable conversation, mentally taking note for later teasing of my sibling.

«I am, and I enjoy them quite well. Every subject is so fascinating,» she lights up with a burning passion at the mention of her subjects. I take a swift, casual step closer, hands stuffing inside my jeans pockets.

«Do you not have a test today?» I arch an eyebrow. She bites her lip, tongue softly tracing the lower part of her lip before she smacks them. _Quite pleasant to look at._

«I'm finished. It was easier than expected,» she gives me a bright smile. _Definitely not Red_ , I conclude. Her personality is too close to the blonde, but if what she says is true, she's also too smart to be the blue puff.

«You don't say?» I narrow my eyes, taking in every aspect of her. A slight hue lingers on her cheeks. _Interesting_. She's intrigued with me, but not intimidated. That rarely to never happens unless I push them.

«Headed for the cafeteria?» I ask when she's reluctant to elaborate on my previous question.

«Library actually,» she weighs the book in her hand, flashing me a fictional read with the schools white tag on the top right corner. «If you would ever be so kind?» she bends her knees, attempting to move forward, but invisible cement is holding her back.

«Go on,» rolls of my tongue, and I clap my mouth shut before a _'sorry_ ' almost escapes. Odd how the impulse kicked in with this one. She's peaked me in all the mysterious ways.

«Mind if I tag along?» I don't have to be polite, I don't have to ask to follow her, it's a free country, so it's more of a reflex than anything else. Butch always does what the hell he wants, and Boomer rarely care for others, so I've created this falsehood of politeness with mortals.

They do right in fearing me, I'm powerful and dangerous after all, but that doesn't mean I don't want to go anywhere in life with my own achievements and not just ride my powers, like Butch is aiming on doing.

«I don't,» she gives me another bright smile, eyes relaxed and dimples genuine. It hits me hard again how she doesn't fear me, even after the news of yesterday. Even the teachers averted their gaze when facing me.

I notice how her hips slightly sway in the corner of my eyes, how her long legs take the smallest steps, and the rolled back shoulders. She's relaxing by my side. How unusual. I feel the skin at the tip of my ears burn with an unusual sensation, making me roll my eyes away from her. To my dismay, it doesn't take many seconds before I return to watching her. Her hand moves to the thin linen scarf around her neck, pulling it closer. _Self conscious under my gaze?_ I wonder. _Does she fancy me?_

«I take it you've also finished the test fast,» she breaks the pleasant silence, her soft voice clinging to my brain. Something about it draws me in. It makes me calm and restless in the core. Red is the only one capable of causing something like this to me, but that's closer to hate. Funny how those feelings overlap and are alike.

«Yes. I might be a rowdy and criminal in your eyes, but I'm no where near dumb.» Thinking about Red makes my voice harsher than it has to be, but she doesn't seem to mind. _How can such a delicate creature be so calm walking there?_ I want to ask her.

Could she be one of the groupies? The girls interested in us Ruff's because we're considered bad boys. She doesn't look like one of them, but they do come in all shapes and sizes, I remind myself after quite the unpleasant experience a year back.

A cough escapes her and she covers up. It sounds harsh and painful, tears clinging to the corner of her eyes. She's so fragile. It rides her throat sore before she excuses herself. I tell her it's fine, _I can't get sick from mortal illnesses_ , I mentally add.

The high ponytail looks slightly like the one Red used to wear when younger, but it was held up with a bow. I have no idea how many I've destroyed over the years before she finally stopped using it. _In a way_ , I take notice. Red stills has a bow, but it's a clip at the back of her head, keeping the hair away from her face. I suppose it's faster than tying it up. It somehow feels nostalgic, watching the hair sway back and forth. However, this girls' is nowhere near the length of the pink puff.

My hands fondle with the fabric inside my pockets as I watch her register the returning book and carefully place it inside the box for later sorting, greatly caring for the bundle of paper and ink.

«What do you have next?» she suddenly ask, and I find myself staring at her. My thoughts had been wandering and I had not been aware of the predator-over-pray look I had given her. Her not minding is what causes it. It's like she's inviting me in to freely do whatever I want. She's fine with it. Regrettably, I feel my cheeks heat up slightly. It's shut down before it gets visible.

«Advanced chemistry. Currently we're working on a project,» she picks out a couple books as she passes a shelf, gesturing to the chair beside her as she takes the seat, placing the stack neatly on her right side. I find my way around the table, sitting across from her. Somehow, I see her as the closest to my intelligence in this school. Nobody finished at the same time as I did, and she's the first to leave the first years; she's at the top. Probably lower ranked than me, but still ruling over the mortals. Her good looks helps.

«We're also on a project,» she adds, a pencil steady in her hands, notebook in front of her. I wrinkle my eyes; It's not like me to miss this. When had she been in possession of these objects? Maybe I was too fascinated with her appearance to observe it earlier.

«Is it a partner project?» I ask out of curiosity.

«It is,» she nods her head, flipping a book open. Her eyes glance over the page before she takes a quick note. She's well organized and her handwriting is prepossessing, the curve of the letters lining up perfectly.

«Where is your teammate?» I pick up one of the books, reading the title. It sounded dry, so I place it back down.

«Probably still taking the test,» the smile is knowing. «And yours?» she suddenly looks up, hand still in her writing, eyes curious. I arch an eyebrow in disbelief.

«I never said I had one. Why do you assume that?»

«Why else ask if I have one?» she shrugs lightly. Now there's a playful and knowing expression. I feel the curve of my lips wanting to smile, and I let them. I want to say something else, but a brunette runs up to our table, pale face and out of breath.

«Hope is in the infirmary.» I watch as her eyes widen. Being forced under my power, standing face to face with me, talking with me had not caused such fright as she was displaying now. Rising from her chair, she rushes off, leaving everything behind, including me. The friend throwing a curious glance over her shoulder. One question trumps the others. _Who the hell is Hope?_


	14. Chapter 14

**_Chapter 3. Playing with fire_**

 _Part 2._

Buttercup's P.O.V

I hate everything about my outfit, but I love everything about the classes. Being a part of the cheer leading squad – on my blonde sisters request – makes it mandatory to use the uniform even when attending normal subjects besides this stupid hobby. The wig itches horribly, more than the extensions do, the skirt is way too short, even with dark optional undershorts. Luckily I'm used to the heavy makeup, and the only change is the blue color, instead of the black one. Why Bubbles had insisted on wearing the contacts even if my eyes are already green – something about the shading being off – I have zero clue. From what I can tell, the difference isn't that great. Barely noticeable.

«Remember to keep it Bubbly,» had Blossom said as we had parted our ways.

«Just one small thing,» my blonde sister had pulled me aside when the oldest puff had practically skipped down the hall in excitement, triggering me in the process. _She better not go off doing something silly while using my profile,_ I thought.

«There might be some complications, but just ignore it, please. Remember to have a low profile no matter what,» my sister glanced back and fourth, biting at her bottom lip. A piece of information was kept from me, and I wanted to ask, but the bell had rung. «Skip the classes, the rest of the day if you have to, just don't cause a ruckus,» she had lastly begged before dashing off.

«What fucking complications?» I muttered to myself before taking my leave.

Had she only told me back then what she meant, I might have been better prepared. _Who am I kidding?_ There's no way she could have told me that would prepare me for the fact that we were practicing on the same field as my counterpart.

Third period is my nightmare, I realize after having the brightest smile. Usually it was math, but because of the silly little hobby, we had practice at the same time, and thus excused from the class. Sounded delightful and relieving at that time, but now standing here with him barely hundred meters away, I feel my knees freeze.

My jaw tightens in parallel with my fists as I watch the boys push each other back and forth, laughter filling the air, the sound of a ball swooshing over the field. I feel a strong urge to storm over there, and strangle him. _Why the hell is his shirt off_ , I grunt loudly to myself.

«The best thing about a cheerleader,» the blonde at my side purrs. She has a soft layer of freckles on her cheeks and nose bridge, long eyelashes and deep brown eyes under a thick bang, hair pulled up in a ponytail.

Bubbles have never told us about this girl, Rachel, but she seems to be her friend as she constantly talks to me. It shocks me how few of them seems to care about yesterday's incident and the murder committed by the ruff. _Disgusting_ , I think. Not just the boys, but these groupies too.

«Alright girls. Enough drooling, get your asses wiggling,» the leader calls out, a sly smile on her lips as her eyes linger lusting on the males. You're the one drooling here, I'm tempted to snark, but I remember to stay in character. _Be happy, bubbly, annoyingly charming_.

I lightly nudge the blonde's shoulder, getting her attention. «I feel a little out of it today, could you kindly remind me of my part?» I force a smile. It feels stiff on my lips, but luckily the other girl doesn't seam to notice nor mind.

«Oh, today we're just going to practice a little. Hilary and Samantha will announce what and who.» A finger is pointed at the blonde and brunette. _Bitches_ , is the first word that comes to mind. They're barely covering anything up, the uniform leaving their cleavage and stomach open for display.

For the first part it's spinning and jumping, girls doing a part of the routine and somersaults and back flips. I don't mind it much; it's rather boring and somehow easy to pull off, but I as for a reminder. Naturally enough, I actually don't know any of the stuff, but Bubbles clearly does. The eyes they give me are of abhor and I can hear their squeaky voice as the thoughts go ' _are you fucking serious with me right now_?'.

I feel distracted as I notice the boys creeping closer and closer. Will the bastard be able to tell it's me behind all the makeup and the odd hair? Rachel squirms beside me with the closeup of the hotties and I can tell she's not the only one. The only ones who doesn't seem to notice are the captains.

«Hope, let's see a tower,» Samantha calls out and I barely remembered that's my name. Not Lilly like always, but Hope. Scratching the back of my neck, I avert my gaze from the curious boys. The five other girls gather around, and I jump on the top, a hand pushing my upward at the underside of my sole. The ground is built of three girls, supporting two over. I get a push to the top, lazily lift my arms over my head in victory. _Be bubbly_ , it rips through my head.

«I did it,» I giggle, wanting to vomit from the sound.

«Man, you're heavy,» one of the girls under me mutters softly, staring me straight in the face. I'm about to blow up at her rude attitude, when the balance slips. The girls under me cries out in what I presume is false shock and scare, and I feel myself pummel down. _Shit_ , I think. I can't hover to save myself. I feel panic prickle at my heart. From this height, a normal person will break something. Closing my eyes I spin to my side. A broken arm can easily be faked.

 _Thud_. The sound is soft, and so is my landing. I feel the heat of another body, open my eyes and glance upwards. Hands rest at my stomach, holding me up, face too close for comfort. The forest color is warm and a bright, a genuine smile makes me blush. Was it possible to be this adorable?

«Looks like heaven sent me an angel,» Butch says with his dark voice, tugging at the female part of me. Mind you, it's so small it's barely a thug of the heartstrings, and the cheesy comment is more like a cold slap across the cheek instead of a sweet caress. I want to punch him in the face. God damn Bubbles and her cheery personality.

«Thank you so much for saving me,» I manage to smile on commando, defiance and pure self loath. Something ripples through the surface of his eyes, and I swear to god it feels like he sees straight through me, and knows who I am.

«Pleasure is all mine,» he whispers instead, hands slipping around my back and pulling me closer. I feel my heart beating violently in my ears, and I don't know if it's from fear at being so close to something as deadly as a ruff or adrenaline pumping from the dangerous situation. It's his fault, either way.

«You're not hurt, are you?» I can hear the girls grinding their teeth at me, envious at the scenario I'm finding myself in, and I want to tell them we can gladly change. My palms feels so sweaty I fear my makeup might be running down my cheeks, a tremble rides my body and I'm doing everything in my power to fight the instinct. I want to push him away, to leave there, to go home and curse my sister for not having warned me. For falling off that fucking human tower and the bitch calling me fat. It takes every part of my sane mind to channel my inner Bubble.

«No, I'm alright thanks to you.» The second lasts too long, and he finally puts me down. I turn around to take the longest, most silent breath I can. Rachel is giggling at me, but the rest of the girls seems to be ready to kill. _Are they always like this?_ I wonder.

I feel my right wrist throbbing, and stare at the swelling. It's not much, and barely there. Confused, I touch it tentatively. Must have been something wrong yesterday, I conclude. _It's going to be hell if I stay, isn't it?_

«I think I'll go to the infirmary after all,» I excuse myself. I can feel the jealous stares and the amused one of my counterpart. He must know. There's no way he doesn't know after that. Bubbles would have felt awkward and out of place in this sort of situation, but I'm not my sister am I? I couldn't give less care even if I tried. All that matters is to escape this hell filled with bimbos, horny teenagers and bitches.

The school nurse is a woman in her fifties, a couple white stripes kindly curving her hair, with a smile and knowing look, she waves for me to sit on the bed. The white lab coat somehow seems more like a cosplay than a helpful gadget.

«What seems to be the problem?» she flicks her pen on the board in her hands.

«My wrist hurts. It's probably sprained.» Taking a seat on the chair, she wheels in closer, holding her hand out for me to let her have a look. After moving it around and squeezing it for about a minute she gives it back.

«Feels strained. Would you like to rest here for an hour before returning to your classes?» She waves a note of legal absent note in front of my face. I like this lady; she understands me and speaks my language.

«Yeah,» I give my most green answer, and before I get to add something blue to that, the woman signs it and hands it over, pulling the curtains closed and giving me some free space. Leaning back, I close my eyes. _He knows,_ I fear. Ironically, I miss the AP classes.


	15. Chapter 15

**_Chapter 3. Playing with fire_**

 _Part 3._

Boomer's P.O.V

The cafeteria is too noisy to generate any energy and I pick the chicken salad around, not really feeling the hunger besides the tearing in my muscles. Butch had been a pure nightmare yesterday after I had ported Buttercup out of his reach. Luckily, he doesn't know it was my doing, and I'm probably dead if he does find out.

The bipolar green is scoffing down his lunch like a garbage-presser machine, the anger from yesterday nowhere to be seen, and I feel stuffed just watching him. Sitting across from me is the redhead, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. Something good happened, I conclude. Not that I'm gonna ask him. As earlier established, I don't have a death wish.

 _ _«Trust me on this one, Bubbles. You don't want to know.» I feel disgusted at my brother for having gone that far. I can try to ignore it as much as I want, but I can't un-see the fainted brunette, the lusting look in his eyes, a predator over his prey.__ _ _ **It's rape**__ _ _, I clench my jaw.__

 _ _At least the blonde is willing; it had been her idea! Knowing the green puff, she probably hates my brother more than anything, and would never let him do it. Shaking the thoughts out of my head, I move closer to the divine goddess in front of me.__

 _ _«Now, about that price of mine for the favor.»__ _Her cheeks flusters, and I want so badly to pull her closer to my chest and jump around, screaming how much I adore her. How happy I am she chose me. I can't act like her fanboy, even if I secretly am. I'm a Rowdyruff! Tough, mean and, well, rowdy._

«A new student will move here next week,» the voice of Brick feels like a crack of the whip, and I almost jump out of my own skin. The green brute laughs loudly while the crimson eyes linger on my suspicious act. I shrug it off, flipping my fork away. It makes a clinging sound as it lands on the table. My brother groans soundless but visibly at my childish protest, but it seems like he's dropping the manner. The funsies lasts but a couple seconds for the jock before he goes back to devouring his food.

«I don't know if it's a boy or a girl yet, but he/she has been expelled from the last school for something. Some Morbucks kid,» Brick takes a bite of his apple.

«Morbucks? That super rich top ten in the world guy? Coming to small Townsville?» Butch peaks up from his tray, interest at it's highest. «He's got a daughter about sixteen-seventeen or something.» I stare disbelieving on him. When had he bothered with anyone but himself?

«What? The girl has money, it would be an easy way to the top.» And there it is. He was thinking about himself. I roll my eyes at his stupidity and take an angry bite of a dried chicken. It's not good, and I push it away from under my nose, cutting ties with my lunch.

«Right,» the redhead finishes. «Anyways, I think she's going to attend the same thing you're, Butch, so behave. I don't want that rich guy suing us because you couldn't keep it in your pants.» Anything less than super smart isn't worth it to that redheaded brother of mine. To him, sports doesn't count as an education. Easy to say that when you're made into a super human with abnormal strength. Mortals can never measure up to it.

«Hey, I can control myself. Unless she's hot of course. I'm kidding!» He adds under the stern look of the ruff leader. _Can you though?_ I wonder, giving him a side glance. Did the puff counts as a free for all? Everything goes, no rules? Glancing at the clock on the wall I rise from my seat.

«Where are you going?» Brick asks. «There's still twenty minutes left of lunch break.»

«I promised one of the teachers to oversee an art project for the juniors.» Picking up the light shoulder bag from the floor, I throw it over my shoulder. No need to tell him it's the same I had won last year. His nod is stiff, before he turns back to his uninteresting meal.

Leaving the tray on the table, I wonder if I had seem sour to my brother. Brick wasn't good with emotions, but somehow he could always tell with me when I needed space from something agitating, without asking. Usually he would bark my head full, being the president of the student council and responsible of the students, but sometimes he cuts me a slack.

Some wave at me as I pass, others call out my name, others simply greets with casual smiles. I doubt my older brothers gets the same treatment. Butch to some degree, but not Brick. He hates humans, and I can easily imagine him hissing if they get too close. Butch can get a little too rough with them, so only the bravest dare approach the brute. I'm friendly, but I guess that's a given when painted blue.

Would my counterpart be skipping down the hallway, huge smile on her face, if she had the chance to attend high school? Maybe she was, just not in this town. Megaville was right down the main road and flying would surely be quick. A small smile plays on my lips as I imagine walking beside the sunny girl, acting casual and being normal high school sweethearts. _Fuck. I want her for myself._ She can't attend another school. Guys would flock around her. A small growl escapes my lips, the mood completely ruined by that thought

I swing the door open, shaking myself as I step inside, smile wide on my lips. The teacher is standing, staring down at the table with small notes scattered about. Her electric blue eyes lands on me, dark hair neatly tucked behind her ear. A smile peaks her cheeks, one no other adult would ever give me.

«Boomer! There you are,» she waves me closer, and I mutter a happy 'good morning'. This person is the reason I love this school so much. When everyone shun us for being the bad guys, she looked past it and on my talent as an individual person.

«I'm almost done with the topics, just a few ones left.» I glance over this years contest. The category is divided into five topics, names distributed under them. One is placed on the side, away from the rest. Sky Dalton. _What a ridiculous name for a kid,_ I think. _But it is beautiful in it's own way._

«What about this one?» I pick it up, studying the writing. Ms Keane glances over, a small sigh escaping her lips as she sees it. _A flunker?_ I wonder.

«To be honest, she's already drawn these topics.» At my questioning look, the woman moves around and opens one of the drawers in her desk, pulling out a stack of papers. «I'm not really allowed to do this, but seeing as you're a judging part of this contest, I can justify it.»

I pick them up and start flipping through. It hits me harder than I first anticipated. My breath feels stolen, my heart is beating strong in my chest, I can't blink as each page sends me into new delirium. _What is this?_ Is all I can think as the colors feed me, the lines caress my irises, the scenes stick to my brain.

«It wouldn't be fair to say she's a lot more talented than the rest of the class, but generalizing her would be even more cruel. She's like you, Boomer. In a class of her own.» _Just like me._ my mouth is tired from the wide smile, but I can't stop it. This has to be her. _This is Bubbles._ Everything in my soul is screaming it at me. _She's here. She's in this school!_

«As you can see, she's already drawn the topics, and it wouldn't be fair for the rest or her to have her redo the work. I don't know what to do about her, but I want to see her work,» Ms Keane folds her arms, moving her head back and forth as she keeps muttering to herself, as if it solves anything. Was she doing that last year when I entered the competition? Was that why I also had a topic of my own? A thought hits me.

«How about a portrait? If she's this good, she should be able to draw a moving model, right?» I feel the excitement starting to overwhelm my speaking. If this is my counterpart, I wont be able to sit still.

«I believe so,» the brunette nods.

«How about having her draw me? I can walk around and surveillance at the same time as I stand model for her. Surely she knows me from before too,» I add at the skeptical look. Scratching her chin, barely seconds pass before she lit up and gives the go sign. I want to jump out of my boots.

I drew Bubbles from my memory last year, my topic having been portrait. How will my counterpart do this year? I want to scream in joy. People are starting to enter the classroom, some shyly talking to their friend while glancing over, others bouncing and talking to me. I watch every face, scan for my counterpart, so the conversations are kind of lacking.

«Oh,» Ms Keane finally says as she suddenly pops up at my side, chasing the students back to their seats. Her hand is open, presenting the person to her side. Gray sweatpants wrapped around her feet, a dark green hoodie loosely clinging to her shoulders, hands stuffed inside her pockets, dark brown hair framing her pale face. Hazel eyes glares at me.

«Boomer, this is Sky Dalton. Sky, your task will be portraying Boomer.» Her mouth twists in disgust at me. I feel my heart fall down to my stomach. A part of me want to scream at the universe for this betrayal. _Who is this?_


	16. Chapter 16

**_Chapter 3. Playing with fire_**

 _Part 4._

Blossom's P.O.V

My heart is in my throat the whole way to the infirmary. All kind of images flashes through my head. Even if it's Buttercup, anything could have happened. Had they dragged her there, had she gone there herself? What had happened? I feel a slight panic attack kicking in as I tear the door open, rushing inside, pull the curtains away from the beds, one by one, until I find my little sister.

Buttercup is glaring up at me from the bed, blonde wig ruffled around her head, makeup smudged and gaze groggy; it didn't make it any less deadly, however. She had been sleeping, and I find my feet giving under, knees landing on the soft material on the bed. A sigh escapes me.

«What gives?» the natural brunette asks, grumpy about the interruption I presume. Ripping the blanket away from her, I shove it into the end of the bed. She doesn't appear to be majorly injured.

«I told her I saw you go to the infirmary,» Robin pops up at my side, explaining. I turn to her with a mask of wrath my brute sister would be proud off.

«You didn't tell me you saw her go there by herself! You just said she was here,» I bark at the brunette. The woman doesn't seem intimidated, and giggles instead, waving her hands at me in attempt to calm the raging storm. The laying girl joins the laughing squad.

«God,» I huff, slapping my palm to my forehead, rubbing the eyebrows in frustration. «Say so sooner next time, okey? So I won't have to run all the way over like a maniac.» I do hope there won't be a next time, though.

«I was going to, but when I saw you with Brick, I kind of forgot how to properly say it. Besides, a little drama in your everyday life is just good for the soul,» she adds, a pleased smile aiming at me. _No, not really,_ I wanted to scream at her. _There's enough drama in my supernatural life, don't need additional in my supposedly normal one._

«You were with Brick?» Buttercup asks, warning in her voice. I give her an equally stern look.

«Don't you start. What are you doing in the infirmary in the first place? Skipping?»

«No, I fell,» she glances quickly at the mortal at our side, prying eyes watching over us like a hawk. «Sprained my wrist a little. Nothing more, I'm fine. The old lady here said I could take a break if I wanted. I feel a little under the weather today.» A smile she probably hates presenting is pointed at the brunette. I want to snort at how funny it looks; the normal green puff would never do that, but she was staying true to the blue character.

«Gosh, Hope, are you alright?» the girl asks, concern in her voice. No wonder there. Bubbles had always been the most sensitive one of us, and this one knew it. Right now, Buttercup was playing that role, and had to predict what our sister would do and say.

«I'm fine,» she waved at her with another sweet thug of the lips. «Better yet. Why where you with Brick, Lilly?» I feel myself stiffen. The green girl is using the name to remind me who I'm suppose to be; her. I'm suppose to have a foul mouth and tomboy attitude. I'm suppose to tell the world to mind it's own damn business. With more cussing involved. A lot more.

«I eh,» starting off with a stutter is making me feel so much worse. «I was going to the library to do the chemistry project and he asked if he could join. So he did.» It is the truth, and I figure she would find out sooner or later. Hopefully she will understand.

Buttercup doesn't understand. From the horrid look on her face, I can tell I had done everything wrong in her book. Before she gets the chance to explode, however, my savior comes from a completely foreign side.

«Yeah, not to be a total bitch or anything, Lilly, but Sky is interested in Brick,» Robin butts in. I stare at her with wide eyes, Buttercup's mouth is agape at her tapping finger. I find it hard to breathe for a brief moment before laughter breaks out from the green puff. I see myself as Sky, barking at myself as Lilly for liking the same guy. Can't be helped, I figure as I myself buckle over with laughter.

«What?» the girl gestures questioning with her hands. Laughter roars through the infirmary and I grab my stomach, feeling the muscles working hard enough to provoke the lactate. It hurts wonderfully, but I can't find it in myself to finish the laughter just yet. It hurts so good; the whole confusion of the scenario and situation is just so messy.

I'm in the role of my sister, which takes the subjects I want, with the dressing style as the blonde, trying to behave like a green queen but failing miserably. Buttercup is still as savage as ever behind her sweet performance of the blue princess, currently dressed in a cheer leading uniform she normally wouldn't even be caught dead wearing, normally obliged to my code of wearing, skipping her favorite workout classes.

Brushing a couple tears of joy away, I draw deep breaths to calm the hysteria. A small amount of chuckles still bubbling out, I manage to calm a little down. The changing wasn't so clever after all, and we've already failed.

«Where's Sky, by the way?» Buttercup asks the confused Robin.

«On her way to the art competition. She's been acting kind of strange today too. A little broody and moody. Maybe she's gotten her period or something.» Buttercup giggles, and I snort. Is that how my baby sister is going to portray me? As a morose character? I can honestly say I don't know how to take that. As a compliment? It really isn't. I let out a displeased sigh.

«Wanna skip?» Buttercup suddenly says, staring at me. It sounds more like asking for permission than an invitation to it. The motherly part of me wants to yell at her for even suggesting that, but at this stage, it's hard to even fool or motivate myself.

Mitch had been sending me these weird side glances upon my failure to detect what was so fun with his jokes and take the hint as what to do when he starts his monkey business. Not to talk about his mortified glances when actually taking notes and showing interest in the actual class. That proves my green sister goofs around, even if she is taking my academical role. I guess that's what happens when she's not responsible for the hand in assignments nor taking the tests. Even if there had only been one test and taken by me today.

Can't very well have her take the tests and suddenly the perfect score will drop drastically. I'm well aware I'll have to take her role every day there's a test, but I don't mind. The only obstacle is our personality change. Mitch just needs to deal with it here and there.

«Yeah,» I find myself answering her. There really was no use. I can't behave like she has for months, even if I know her better than anyone. One day doesn't hurt, and it's only half the day. «We could find Sky and ask if she wants to join in. Maybe her day is just as bad as ours.»

«Sounds like a plan,» Robin giggles at us, thumbs up. «I bet a day off is what we all need.»

As we rise from the bed, Buttercup suddenly grabs the scarf around my neck and thugs in closer. One glance at her, and she faintly points to her neck. The bruises from Brick's manhandling was still violently showing, even after the chemical-x bath.

There is no logical way to explain this odd feeling inside of me. I know he's bad. I know he's a criminal, the heavens knows he's bad for me and I should do everything in my power to avoid or crush him, but he's not making it easier.

He'd been so casual in his conversation with me today, shown an unknown interest and behaved. Even if it seemed more like an interrogation and the red ruff poking around, it had made my heart skip a beat. It had caught my breath in my throat, my palms slightly sweaty, and I couldn't help but smile at him.

And then there it had been; the sudden warm smile of playful brightness, teasing my feelings and playing with my emotions, making me feel things I shouldn't, the blasted L word playing at the tip of my brain, sheer force keeping it out of speakable reach.

My ears feel numb as Robin talks to Buttercup, the girl taking the role of the talkative, friendly friend, and she is doing her best to keep up with the hyperactive mortal brunette.

«I'm just going to get my bag from the locker, try to find Sky in the meantime. Meet you outside the school gates?» Buttercup says, dragging me back to reality. I nod at her as she takes off, engaging in talk with my friend. Originally, she's _my_ friend, pulled into the circle of us sisters from the art side. I fear talking too much will give away who I am, or I'll say the wrong thing that Lilly shouldn't know.

Luckily, she doesn't seem to notice it's me as we reach the classroom. And just in time, too. It fly's open and hits the wall with a loud bang, an angry brunette storming out. Boomer stands on the threshold, biting the bottom of his lip, hand slightly stretched out. It looks like he's about to go after her, but changes his mind.

I storm past him, giving the blond the best glare I've got with the additional sour grimace. Something dark flashes before his eyes before he moves back inside the room, pulling the door with him.

«Bub,» I whisper softly as I grab my sister by the shoulder and turning her to me. Tears stream down her cheeks, and she throws herself in my arms, squeezing my waist as if her life depends on it.

«I hate him,» she whispers so soft I can barely hear it with my super hearing. _Who? What happened?_


	17. Chapter 17

**_Chapter 3. Playing with fire_**

 _Part 5._

Butch's P.O.V

I've never felt shy in my entire life, so stripping the dirty training shorts off and throwing it somewhere around my locker, I have no problem turning the knob, water running mid amongst twenty-something other boys. They're lively; laughing and shouting, smacking with towels and measuring their manhood. Just like any other day.

Picking up the hanging soap, I flip it open and take a good hand full of it. Starting with my hair, I pull at the roots, massage down my neck, shoulders, arms, stomach, back. It's soft, thanks to the unfair drug in my system, but I can't discard the thoughts of something softer. Her skin.

At the time, I could feel how smooth my fingers moved over her body, how the texture was like silk and honey; but in the aftermath, able to compare it to things around me, nothing really lives up to the green puff.

It's left an unending huger inside of me. To make matters worse; deep within my heart, I knew it had always been there. Grown like a monster over the years, and lately it's threatening to consume me unless I take her first. My first instinct is to punch the closest wall, or face, but that wouldn't make the leader boy happy, so I clean the soap away and step out, grabbing a green towel off the peg on the wall.

Wrapping it around my waist, I stroll out of the shower area and to the bench by the locker. My dirty training shorts marking the space. Flipping it open, I grab a deodorant and roll it along my armpits before corking it shut. On another thought, the blonde with the colorful hair had been another matter.

Picking her out of the air had been a piece of cake, but normally I wouldn't. Who cared about these bitches? They hurt each other left and right, their screeches something unholy and saving her had really been dooming her judging by those killer eyes over her shoulder. Something in my core had reacted to the slip of her clumsy footing, and before I knew it, holding her hadn't been as bad as first anticipated. Might have been to spite the fake-blonde leader that told me to fuck off a while back. Boy had she been triggered, I snicker to myself.

Maybe it was the typical blue knight in shining armor that had slightly rubbed off on me – God fucking forbid no; as if that pussy brother of mine would ever have any impact – or if it was an impulse in the moment. Sometimes I could be so spontaneous it even caught me off guard.

Flipping the box of armpit perfume back into the locker, I grab a boxer from the extra shift. The outer door goes open and the boys fall silent as the coach rounds them us up by a wave of his hand, the other grasping a pad with sheets stacked.

«So the second game is coming up, boys. We're holding it here in town the second week of November, just under a month from today. No cheating, no skipping practice, no bullshit,» the middle aged, broad shoulders from his younger days, but a couple too many six packs of good beer around his gutter, counts the illegal acts on his fingers, spit standing out from his mouth.

«Am I making myself clear?» his hawk eyes moves dangerously over the crowd, to magnitude the meaning behind his words.

«Yes, coach,» everyone says in unison, me included.

«Butch,» he barks before the ricochet from the unified warcry dies down. I arch an eyebrow at the pointed, brown eyes, slumping my left shoulder, leaning that way. Unsure orbs dart back and forth, some seems nervous from the potential outbreak. They all fear me for my superior strength. What they don't know is that this coach doesn't give a single fuck. Brick had measured our powers to be capable of blowing up the planet over fifty times, and even if this old teacher knew, he still wouldn't thread on eggshells around me. He'd stomp all over the place.

«Good work out there. Keep it up,» he flips the old cap on his forehead before turning to leave, not waiting for a reply. I can't resist the rippling in my lips as I give a silly, toothy grin.

«Yes, sir.»

I groan inwards, already loathing the rest of the day. My locker was never locked, because no one dared steal anything from me. Besides from those pesky groupies. It was common to loose a couple sweat shorts and deodorants over the months, and I've made it a habit of keeping at least two in spare.

Bag over shoulder – God knew how many times the red leader had screamed at me for not keeping up appearance of pretend care and the illusion the lack of a bag caused – I stroll down the hall, not really taking in the scenery. I probably wouldn't have noticed had it not been for the soft voice.

It felt so out of place, so foreign and familiar at the same time, I snapped my eyes up and craned my neck after the sound. To my right, down the hallway and surrounded, the beauty from this morning is holding her hands up in defense, two amazon warriors on each her side. It's bitch one and two, I conclude.

«Look, I don't have time for this, I need to-»

«Remind me, Hope, whenever the fuck do I care what you need to? When you have time? That's right, never. So get your fat ass into max gear and to the closest bathroom.» I find my eyebrows twitch with annoyance and before I get to make up my mind, I'm by her side, hand wrapped around her tiny shoulders.

«There you are, love,» I give her the most charming smile I can muster. «Thought you'd take forever, so figured I could meet you half way.»

«I- right,» luckily, she takes the hint and nods her head, eyes watching me weary. «I'm sorry, got a little occupied.» Her hand waves at the two girls, faces in disbelief at the scenery in front of them. I glance over, pretending I notice them first now.

«Ladies, if you wouldn't mind me stealing Hope from your lovely hand. Won't be long, promise,» I charm, and before the sentence is over and they manage to summon some kind of resistance to me, they're head over heals and nodding, waving us away. I can practically feel the jealous daggers they send the girl at my left, as I lead her away.

«Where to?» I whisper low enough for them not to hear.

«Take a right here,» she whispers over as a stiff smile is planted on her face the next three turns after a quick pull back when she's trying to escape. I can hear them tripping behind, making sure they were seeing right. I let her go at the fourth, double checking they're not following us anymore.

Oddly how natural it felt, how her high fit just right at my side. There isn't any chaos or attraction between us – she's hot, though, not gonna deny that – but it doesn't feel so bad and excruciating as it normally would. What the hell, maybe Boomer somehow did get to me after all. I'm not this kind of guy! Unless this gives me access to any of her three holes, it's a hassle. Normally. _Something is awfully wrong with me today._

«Thank you,» she suddenly says, fingers awkwardly nibbling at each other.

«Hey, any day for a cutie like you,» I wink, broad smile. It feels silly, simply because I'm not pretending to charm her or get my way. It feels, _yuck_ , genuine. It's not working, though, I notice as her she struggles hard not to roll her eyes and cradles a groan at the bottom of her throat. _Spark_ , I find myself smiling. Just how I like 'em.

The classroom is empty, maybe because it's not in use or because of the mini break, and she slides gallant around the desks, reaching her destination quite quick. Wasting no time, Hope picks up a bag and slides it over her shoulder, turning around.

«Do you have plans this weekend?» I hear myself ask. Something about the shape of her eyes and bridge of her nose grinds my gears. An unmistakable pull about the wrinkle of her brows.

«I don't think so,» she seems perplexed by the none-existing space between us. I trap her between my self and the table, hands cutting of a possible escape route. Danger flickers in her irises, a sense of panic lingers on her skin, breath rapid in her throat. That's right. I'm a predator, I take whatever the fuck I want.

«Then I'd like to invite you over for some private fun. To make up for me saving you,» I purr into her ear, breath softly on her rosy cheek, eyes blinking slowly. Her long lashes waves seductively at me, and I find myself wondering how I haven't noticed her before. Surely, I must have seen her with the other girls at one point or another. I simply can't remember.

A vein pops up on her forehead, and she's holding her breath, a flicker of nostril flaring in the corner of my eyes. Then it hits me what she reminds me of. Or rather a whom. A piece of me wants her to blow up; prove to me I'm right. Because let's face it, the bitch queen would never stand for being so close to me, least letting me dominate her. I lean in closer, giving her my most smug face. _I know_ , is written there.

Something ripples across her expression, before she bows her head. Here it comes, I bite my bottom lip, waiting to sink my teeth into her neck and make her scream in frustration and anger.

Her body shakes lightly, and before I can speak up, she throws her head backwards and laughs out loud. Grabbing her stomach, she rolls from my left to my right forearm. I pull away, more confused than I have been before, brow arched her way.

It rides itself out, and she wipes away a couple of escaping tears. Her hand is still covering her face when she speaks.

«Sorry, but I think you've misunderstood me. I'm playing for the same team as you.»

«What?» I question.

«Team softball, if you know what I mean,» she pushes away from the table and elbows my arm with a playful wink. That's when I understand what she means. Those kind of softballs.

«Oh, shit,» escapes me, and she laughs some more, making a faint blush of embarrassment form. I turn after her.

«Well, then. Thanks for the help, Butchie boy,» she sticks her tongue out at me, two fingers waving from the top of her head., and she rounds the corner, out of my sight. A faint smile grows to a chuckle as I ruffle my hair.

«Oh, man. You sure know how to pick 'em.» A part of me is happy I'm wrong. Leader boy would be furious if I obliterate the school from excitement if she had been the green puff.


	18. Chapter 18

**_Chapter 3. Playing with fire_**

 _Part 6._

Bubble's P.O.V

I don't think I've ever seen my green sister giggle, and the sight of it was alarming to say the least. Never the less, the second we all started asking questions and digging, she pushed us away and waved it off, saying it was nothing to consider.

It helped when Robin pointed out the similarities between the laughter and the personality of cheerleading character I've created. Makes me kind of proud how well she's pulling it off, even if the outburst is circumstantial.

By the time we've reached the mall, my tear streak is dried up and laughter is rolling off our tongues. I enjoy the backseat view of Buttercup's hyperactive blue portraying and Blossom on the other side, trying her best to act like the green brute. The nervous pauses of the cursing and over the top speaking is far from a hit, but the funniest thing I've ever seen.

«They're energic today,» Robin comments at my side, and I jump slightly, lost in thoughts.

«Yeah,» I answer her, a soft smile stretching out.

«You're still the same, though,» she comments, giving me a thumb up. I guess standing back and watching the crowd was a red thing to do. It never occurred to me how often Blossom was quiet and keeping an eye on everything. Just in case something could go wrong. Now that's my role, as long as Robin is around.

Moving from fabulous shoes to beautiful dresses, skirts with different patterns and cool sweaters, we look to our hearts content, before taking a breather with an ice cream. I pick the vanilla one, because that's what Blossom would go with, she picks one with licorice and my green sister is left with strawberry.

It's all wrong, we know. I'm the one with the sweet tooth, enjoying berry tastes and fruit sugar, while Blossom is for the sour and bitter tastes. Buttercup is a huge fan of umami flavor, but prefers salt to everything.

Three bites in, I'm trading mine with Blossom when Robin isn't looking, then with Buttercup. The ice is gone before the brunette has turned back to us, a look of innocence on our faces. The friend doesn't seem to notice as we move on.

 _«- such a tragic accident yesterday, but who's to blame?»_ The voice from the TV get my attention as I crane my neck to see. It's a standardized flat screen. A couple of benches for taking a break is seated around, the volume just loud enough to hear, but not to disturb. It's a male talking, dark in the hair, pearly white teeth. Neat, small mustache and three-day old beard. I don't like him, I conclude as a chill runs down my spine. Something about the man gives me the creeps.

 _«It's the Rowdyruff's fault, is it not?»_ The blonde woman answers, a quizzical look upon her brows.

 _«Is it really, though?»_ the voice booms in my ears. _«Let's look at it this way. If there weren't any Powerpuff girls, the boys wouldn't demand to fight them, thus not really having a reason to cause mayhem and death. We all saw the live broadcast, the boys inviting the girls to fight for justice. And if they were here to really protect the city, where have they been the last month and a half?»_

 _«That is a good point,»_ the woman urges him.

 _«It seems like they're doing just enough to stay as heroines, but not more than they have to. Where were they when the banks were robbed? When the block from first and sixth was leveled with the earth?»_ I felt numb in my knees as he kept pointing out one catastrophe after another the last six weeks we hadn't been there. _We hadn't been there when they had needed us._

I feel myself starting to hyperventilate, eyes widening in horror. I can't look away, I can't focus on anything other than the ugly truth the dark haired man is spitting. It's like venom to my fragile soul, tainting it an ugly black. A hand lands on my shoulder, and I stare at my redheaded sister. My leader.

She's cold as ice, eyes piercing and focused. A small 'shh' escapes her lips and I feel my shoulders lower themselves. Glancing to my other side, I see the fake hair on Buttercup's wig float down. It's on the rant of surging off her head with anger. The hand let's me go, and I watch it touch the brute girl, the soft 'shh' reaching her as her brows unknit themselves and she takes a deep breath.

It does little to help me feel better. Townsville needed better than what they currently had. We could barely face them once every month, and even then it did little. The arena was always hit hard, causing the civilians harm and at the end of the day, we still lost the fight.

«Snake,» Robin breaks the silence and melancholy beside us. «At least they're doing something against them. Not like the rest of us who turn a blind eye in hope of getting kept out of the way of their wrath.» And that's enough to make me feel better. I want to hug the mundane girl close and cry into her shoulder, thanking her for those words. The moment doesn't last long, however.

«Oh, my god,» Robin squeals out suddenly and rushes off, dragging me with her. She's already moved on from the show, and I allow myself to quickly brush away the tears for the second time that day. I feel like an epic train wreck in a soap opera.

In an open area lies a karaoke set, the brunette picking up one of the mics. She's shining and grinning from ear to ear, it's hard not to giggle at her energy. I'm grateful for her chirping personality. Flipping through the songs, I notice Buttercup snorting barely audible and Blossom taking a deep breath. They have an _'oh, boy'_ written on their faces.

«This is so totally your thing, Hope,» Robin says, and I'm about to agree with her. But I'm not Hope right now. Buttercup is. Turning, laughter vibrating in my throat, I try my best to hold it at her horrid look. She hates singing public, the opposite of me.

«Yes, Hope, it sure is,» Blossom comments, stifling a chuckle with greater restrain than me. There's no going back, we all realize as she takes the handed microphone with huge eyes and a grim look. _It's not going to be pretty_ , I think under joyful cackling.

«But I'm going to pick the song,» she finally says, hand out to get the controller. The brunette evaluates it for a split second, before she shrugs and hands it over, dimples beaming. «Don't look,» my sister waves to our friend, and she turns around with an eye roll.

«You too,» she glares at the giggling squad, and she shares a knowing look before spinning on our heal. I can hear the sound of shuffling from he screen for quite some time, and when it goes all quiet, I wonder if she's ditched us.

 _«_ _Tonight I'm gonna have myself a real good time,»_ the song starts, and I hear Robin shriek in excitement. She dashes over and grabs two more microphones, handing them over.

«I love 'Don't stop me now' by Queen!» I laugh while singing, turning to my sisters and friend while waving with my hands animatedly.

 _«Don't stop me now, I'm having such a good time,»_ we sing in unison. I'm so hung up in the song, I don't notice the person joining us before another seat is taken, the instrument turned on, and the voice joining our excited ones.

 _«Oh, I'm burnin' through the sky, yeah,»_ she joins in at the ending. Red, curled hair tied up on the side of her head bounces back and forth, dark eyes with long lashes, an exotic starry sky of freckles on her nose bridge and cheeks. On her arm is an expensive designer purse, the girl spotting a yellow dress with no arms, a black belt holding it tight to her waist. Her black, leather knee-length stilettos spot on. She's someone I've never seen before, but it makes me want to draw her.

Not like the one from earlier today, the forced portrait of Boomer. I should've known he would find some way to slime himself into my day. The one day I would be able to draw to my hearts content and have a good time.

It had been hell, sitting there, pretending like I didn't know him and try to act like my chilling sister. It had just felt bitter to me. I didn't have to look up at him to draw. I knew his features by heart, even if I didn't want to. The artistic side of me caught on to it before I could think about ignoring it.

Besides, it was hard to forget a guy that beat you up for the last ten years. In the end, I thought I could do it, I had let myself down, and started bawling my eyes out. It had just been too much, and I had ran out of there like the coward I am. _He's taking everything from me_ , an ugly voice pricks at my mind.

The song ends, and we stare awkwardly at the unknown girl. She can be our age, but also a lot older than us. I would be able to remember her face if I've seen her before, and a small part of my mind does, I just can't pinpoint from where.

«Hey, I'm Princess,» she breaks it with a strong voice. «I'm new in town. Actually just arrived,» she holds her hand out for us to take it. Robin is the first one to jump the wagon. She greets and welcomes her, Blossom being the next in queue, introducing herself or rather Buttercup's alias. I'm the last one, and I notice how soft her hand is. She has a strong grip, as if she's used to meeting a lot of people.

«Do you all go to Townsville high? I'm going to start next week, so knowing someone would be nice.»

«Yeah,» Buttercup says. «What are you going to take?»

«The sports line. I don't recall the name. Figured it would give me an out of jail free card for the heavy math,» she giggles, and we chuckle softly. Blossom looks a little offended by the remark, but it's barely showing for a split second.

«Lovely, you'll probably be in class with me,» my sister continues.

«Yeah, Sky here is on the art line with Robin,» Blossom quickly says, «and I'm taking AP classes. No out of jail free card for me,» she tries to joke. It falls flat and I want to pat her on the back for trying, but Princess doesn't seem to mind. She smiles politely.

The phone in her purse rings loudly, and she excuses herself as she picks it up, stares sighing at the screen. «I'm terribly sorry, but I'm going to have to take this. I'll start next week. See you guys then,» she waves as she strolls off, nose high up and back arched.

«She seems nice. Princess, was it? Love the flashy hair and expensive exteriors,» Robin comments. I touch my hand tentatively. _Maybe. Just maybe it's my time to get a frien_ d.


End file.
